


The Luck of Job Part 1

by dimeliora



Category: CW Network RPF
Genre: Biblical References, Community: spn_j2_bigbang, F/F, Frottage, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Religion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-24
Updated: 2015-07-24
Packaged: 2018-04-11 02:43:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 33,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4418021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dimeliora/pseuds/dimeliora





	1. Chapter 1

**** Babe, there's something tragic about you  
Something so magic about you  
Don't you agree? 

**** Babe, there's something lonesome about you  
Something so wholesome about you  
Get closer to me 

** No tired sighs, no rolling eyes, no irony  
No 'who cares', no vacant stares, no time for me **

**** Honey, you're familiar like my mirror years ago  
Idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on its sword  
Innocence died screaming, honey, ask me I should know  
I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door 

** Babe, there's something wretched about this  
Something so precious about this **

** Where to begin **

** Babe, there's something broken about this  
But I might be hoping about this. **

** Oh, what a sin **

** To the strand a picnic plan for you and me  
A rope in hand for your other man to hang from a tree **

**** Honey, you're familiar like my mirror years ago  
Idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on its sword  
Innocence died screaming, honey, ask me I should know  
I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door 

 

“God and the devil walk into a bar-“

“You can’t start it that way”

“Of course I can. I can start it any way I want.”

“No. You can’t start it that way. You can’t start a new gospel with a _joke_.”

“It’s not a joke. It’s the facts. God and the devil walked into a bar.”

“It sounds like a joke.”

“Well it’s not.”

“Ok, even if it’s not a joke it’s not exactly a hundred percent factual is it? People will read that and think you mean the actual devil.”

“I do mean the actual devil.”

“No, Lucifer, cast down, the original devil. Which _he_ isn’t.”

“This is why you’re not allowed to join softball games.”

“I’m not good at them anyway. Fix it.”

“Fine. God and the 179th soul to hold the title of devil, once known as Jensen Ackles, walk into a bar. Are you happy now?”

“I’m never happy.”

“It figures.”

 

\----

God and the 179th soul to hold the title of devil, once known as Jensen Ackles, walk into a bar. Which is, as previously stated, not a joke but a statement of factual events. To be specific the events that started a new gospel, commissioned by God himself and written by the Angel Hesediel with editorial help from the angel Dumah.

The bar itself was nothing special. A local spot, small but well established and frequented with a variety of patrons. The jukebox was playing something a little bit country, a little bit rock and roll, and Wendy was flying drink orders out to everyone who asked. There were decorations left over from the video game themed night that had come before, and the only patron that seemed annoyed by this was a churlish doctor seated at the bar who had complaints about everything else as well.

Otherwise, it was a quiet Wednesday night and nobody seemed to be paying too much attention to anyone else. Not that they would have noticed the two that had just walked through the door.

Just as they wanted it.

“What are we doing here? You don’t drink.”

God turned to the devil and smiled.

“I want to suggest a wager.”

And just like that, God flummoxed the devil.

“A…bet. You asked me to meet you in a San Antonio bar to make a bet? Are you secretly a Spurs fan?”

God laughed at that, his eyes panning around the bar before settling on a table in the corner.

“Do you see that young man? In the scrubs?”

The devil lifted one eyebrow, following God’s line of sight before nodding once.

 

 

“Yes. I see him.”

“What do you see?”

The devil tilted his head, tongue wetting his lips briefly before he shrugged.

“One of yours. Very much one of yours. Jared Tristan Padalecki, age twenty-seven, son to Gerry and Sherri, brother to Megan and Jeff. Nurse anesthetist at Christus across the street, upstanding community member, congregant at-“

“No. I don’t want to know his statistics Jensen, I want to know what you see.”

“A man. A believer. Why?”

“I want you to go talk to him. Pretend to be human again and simply strike up a conversation.”

“No offense to your grand ineffableness, but no. That’s stupid.”

God sat very still for what, for most people, would seem far too long a time to be comfortable.

“Not many would call me stupid.”

“Not many are already the king of Hell and have no other place to be sent to be punished. Speaking of which, I have a job to do and this is taking up a lot of time I could be doing it.”

God snorted, eyes still locked on Jared as he drank his beer and flipped pages in his book.

“It runs itself, you and I both know that, and if you really think I can’t punish you further you are a fool. Something I have never thought of you.”

The devil didn’t let his gaze waver either, although he looked slightly less confident than he did a moment before.

“So you want me to go over there and talk to him? Why? He can’t be converted. I have no leverage and no desire. He’s one of _yours_.”

“No conversions. No seduction. Just a conversation Jensen. Consider it a work approved break.”

And here the devil gave God a very dry look, because he was not known for taking or enjoying breaks.  But, in the end, he walked over to the small table and joined Jared Padalecki because that was what God wanted. Even the devil must follow some commands.

“Is anyone sitting here?”

Jared looked up, eyes bright and joyful, and he moved the book from the seat beside him and shuffled his own chair a length over to give the devil more room.

“Now there is. Howdy. Jared Padalecki.”

One big hand was extended, and the devil took it easily and shook it. Jared’s smile got brighter as he lifted his beer bottle and clinked the neck of it against the one that was suddenly sitting in the devil’s hand.

“Jensen Ackles. Howdy and thanks.”

Jared marked the page in his book with a cocktail napkin and looked Jensen up and down.

“I don’t recognize you. Have you been around here before?”

The devil tipped the bottle back and took a long swallow of the beer, enjoying the way the flavor burst on his tongue. The amount of hedonism he actually had time to take part in these days was quite slim.

“No, this is my first time. Are you a regular?”

Jared smiled brighter at that, eyes roaming the interior of the bar before coming back to settle on the devil.

“I’ve been coming here since it was called the Stinkery. Which was a good name. I mean it didn’t stink we just…just called it that. Yes. Is the answer to your question. I’ve been coming here since I was still in school.”

“A nurse?”

“Yep. Anesthesia. I put people to sleep for a living. Temporarily. You know. Not like vet put to sleep which is much more... Hey, what do you do for a living?”

The devil sipped his beer this time, tasted the lie, old and familiar.

“I’m a salesman. Luxury items mostly. The kind of useless shit you see in _Skymall_.”

Jared laughed, eyes sparkling, and tapped his beer bottle against the devil’s again.

“I bought a hammock from _Skymall_ once. It was actually really nice. Super overpriced, but nice.”

“That’s what we specialize in. Nice and overpriced things. You like your job?”

“Yes. A lot of people can’t say that, but I’m kind of blessed in that respect. I have great coworkers, a good track record, and I get to honestly say I work to make people better. What about you? Do you like your job?”

The devil picked at the peeling edge of his beer’s label.

“Sure. I meet a lot of interesting people. Go to a lot of interesting places. And I learn something new every day.”

“What kind of things do you learn?”

His lips pursed briefly.

“All sorts of things. Nifty little bits of trivia about local life in different towns. The enduring and unending capacity of humans for pettiness and greed. That sort of thing.”

Now Jared’s smile dimmed a bit, and the light in his eyes changed in flavor and intensity.

“I don’t think that’s unending.”

“Most of your interactions are with people who are falling asleep. They’re afraid of their future, of what could go wrong in surgery, and they’re pretending to be good in the hopes that it will balance the scales. Deathbed conversions are still considered powerful.”

“Dude! That’s kinda fucking generalized don’t you think?”

The devil tipped his beer back and finished it off. How long was a conversation?

“I don’t think so. It’s based off long experimentation and data collection. There’s a lot of logic backing it up.”

The devil expected Jared, a _good_ human being, to end it right there. Jared surprised him by laughing.

“Anybody ever tell you that you’re kinda fucking dark?”

“Yeah. Quite a few people actually.”

Jared leaned in.

“Did somebody take your candy when you were a baby?”

The devil huffed, fingers tightening on the now empty bottle.

“No. I’m just saying I’ve been everywhere and seen everything. The bad far outweighs the good when it comes to humanity. People are naturally, intrinsically geared towards doing bad things.”

At that Jared lifted a finger, waving it along with his beer bottle, eyes bright and sweet again.

“Ah. Yes. But you forget, humans have something that combats that.”

“Oh really? And what’s that?”

“Xboxes.”

And for the first time in a hundred and nine years the devil laughed.

And that, as the human writers say, was the beginning of the end.

 

\----

 

“What do you think now?”

And Jensen is tempted, very tempted, to walk away. God looks smug, and he hates when God is smug. _Hates it._ To be fair Jensen feels honestly that with how powerful God is being smug is really a dick move, because honestly if the guy really knows everything as it was and will be _why_ is it a surprise when he’s right?

It was a break, and Jensen did enjoy it. He enjoyed laughing, which he never really thought he’d do again once his new job started, and he enjoyed Jared. When it came to presiding over the Pit Jensen had found that the two things he could count on were terrible atmosphere and worse company. Every now and then there would be a demon that didn’t bother him much, but overall being devil meant both capturing new souls and babysitting demons galore.

Jensen spent years getting used to the idea that demons could be irresponsible children. He’d been raised to see them as monsters, bad to the bone, ultimately evil, limitlessly sly _monsters_. Instead in his first three weeks he had come up against an army of irresponsible and ridiculously ill prepared demons who managed to bungle half of the tasks they were given. On his second day as devil one of the bastards had lost the keys to the gates of Hell. Which, for a reason Jensen still didn’t understand, were the only copies.

That mess had taken forever to sort out.

On top of that there was an open door policy in Hell, and Jensen spent half his time listening to the complaints of lesser demons, and every now and then souls that thought they didn’t deserve to be there. Mix that with his duties above ground tempting assholes into being bigger assholes and you had a recipe for workplace stress unlike any other.

But Jensen took his job seriously. He believed in it. After all, once commissioned you were in until the end of the contract, and no one had ever clearly explained how that happened. Jensen knew it was possible, as he was aware that there were a number of devils before him, but every time he tried to get clarification they simply blew him off.

So Jensen didn’t get a lot of breaks, and he didn’t ask for them.  He was too worried about the mess that would be waiting for him when he returned.

“I think he’s very charming. Congratulations on having him on your side.”

God’s face settled further into smug, and Jensen wondered what would happen if he pretended there was a Pit related emergency that he had to go handle immediately.

“He is rather wonderful isn’t he? You know he also works with animal charities and donates money regularly to homeless shelters?”

Jensen felt the muscle under his eye twitch, and he tried hard to keep a good poker face.

“Yes. He’s wonderful. Congratulations.”

“He’s a good man. Kind. Thoughtful. Incorruptible.”

“Yes. I get it. You have a great follower. Wonderful.”

Jensen felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and his muscles go tight. This was exactly the tone God had had when he originally enlisted Jensen to be the devil. Although, to be fair, when that happened Jensen had thought God was a barber and had talked a lot more than he should have.

“So wonderful that I feel like he could not be improved upon at all.”

“Unless humans are suddenly allowed to be perfect there’s something he can improve on.”

God turned then, putting his attention fully on Jensen, and the victorious look on his face told Jensen that this was his simple haircut turned eternity of devilhood all over again.

“So you think that he’s not as perfect as he seems.”

“I think. What is your angle?”

“I want to make a bet with you.”

And suddenly Jensen remembered how this strange night started.

“No. What? No.”

“I have a wager, and I think you’ll agree.”

“I really won’t. I don’t have time for this. I can’t delegate like you.”

“If you win I’ll free you from your contract.”

Jensen felt his hand tighten into a fist, his fingers going instantly numb with the force of it. He could hear something creak in his neck as he turned his head to look at God.

“What?”

“If you win the bet I will free you from your contract. No more unruly demons, complaining souls, hellfire or brimstone. If you win you are free and I will pick a new devil. Are you interested now?”

He didn’t even have to consider it.

“What’s the bet?”

 

 

\-----

 

 

Sariel sat in the throne room, little feet dangling over the arm of the chair and eyes fixed on the ceiling. Jensen knocked her ankles hard enough to turn her sideways and cause her big grey eyes to land on him with distaste.

“Get up. We have a problem.”

The former angel lifted one eyebrow, mouth curling and fingers tapping on the arm of his throne. A thing that probably should bother Jensen more than it did. Then again, she was the only one that he could even vaguely trust to run his kingdom when he was gone.

“Is the problem your attitude? Because I have been here _all day_ dealing with _your job_. A little thanks wouldn’t be out of order.”

“Thanks? You’re the second in command. This is your job. Has been since the Fall.”

“And since the Fall no one has _ever_ thanked me.”

“Well that’s not changing now. Get up.”

She muttered darkly while rising, and Jensen took her spot on the uncomfortable throne. He hated this chair.

“Have I mentioned lately that you used to be more fun? Because you did.”

If that was true Jensen couldn’t remember, and with the fallen angels it was always hard to tell what was true or not. God had put him in charge, but Jensen was eons younger than any of them and the bitterness that came with following a younger former human was not something most of them hid. On top of being actually competent, Sariel was typically something bordering friendly.

“God gave me the exit clause.”

Her eyes went comically wide, and Jensen didn’t even bother to hide the snort. In response the angel knocked his ankle cruelly into the metal of the throne and watched as he hissed and gripped the delicate bone.

“What is it?”

Jensen would never forgive God for leaving him with human pain. It was ridiculous to have a devil that could crack his funny bone and then have to shake it off.

“A bet. A really simple, childish, stupid bet. An _incredibly_ simple, childish, stupid bet. One he’s done _before_ which I totally should have realized was a good way to get out of this fucking contract.”

“You’re making less sense than Arakibal. And that’s a feat. Pull it together fearless leader.”

“Job.”

The fallen angel blinked, once, twice, and then tilted her head slowly and surely to the right.

“Job?”

“Job. He is reenacting Job. And if I win I get out of Hell. I get away from every fucking lousy damned soul and all the idiot demons and lunatic fallen angels and this goddamn smell.”

If she was offended that Jensen lumped her in with the rest of his problems she didn’t say it.

“Job? As in the Righteous Man Job? Who was tested on every level and won the test? Never turned from God? _Job_?”

Jensen stopped. Felt his lips thin.

He had, to be fair, never really read the Bible.

Had fucking Job won?

“Do we have a Bible down here?”

Her response was simply a look that made Jensen feel three inches tall and dressed in his mother’s underwear.

“Ok. So step one, you’re my lackey. Get me a Bible.”

Her laughter shook the rafters of the throne room.

 

\-----

 

 

 

 

“Steps covered in butter? What the fuck are-why? Why would he want steps covered in butter? How is that a better life?”

The man on the rack, a serial adulterer and a fan of dog fighting in life, groaned in confusion and pain. Sariel stood before him, head tilted again in consideration this time as she held his intestines in her hands.

“It’s probably a metaphor. I don’t know Lord. The writers of those books took a lot of hallucinogens.”

“This is sacred scripture. Isn’t it accurate?”

Sariel twisted her hands and the man on the rack screamed hideously and tried to pull back before realizing his mistake.

“No. That is human garbage. For example, it says that I fell teaching men about the _moon_. What sort of sense does that make? One of us is listed as being damned for talking about makeup. Do you, in your extensive experience with him, believe that God gives a shit about makeup?”

And Jensen had no good retort to that. Instead he found himself flipping more pages and studying more and more of the scripture as Sariel finished her work and then banished the soul back to its cage. He looked back up in time to see her scrubbing her delicate looking little hands.

“So. God wins after he makes Job feel like shit?”

“Is that what it says?”

“Yes it-why are you asking me? Weren’t you around back then?”

Sariel’s mouth curled into something like a smile, and she dropped her hand towel on the ground carelessly and shrugged.

“Yes and no. I was there. I saw many things and heard many more. But I was only assisting the devil who persecuted Job. And I wasn’t even Earthside when God laid down the law about complaining.”

Jensen hated that she was going to make him ask for it. He hated even more that it looked like she wasn’t going to be picking that towel up anytime soon. Hell was cluttered and dirty enough.

“What actually happened Sariel?”

And then the fallen angel was leaning against him, wings brushing his back and shoulder pressed firmly into his elbow.

“Lord Jensen, I would like very much to have an Earthside pass. You know I haven’t had one in many _many_ years. I think it would only be fair, for assisting you so well and faithfully, that I get a day or twenty-eight off.”

Jensen thought of what his life would be like without his right hand for a month.

Then he thought of what it would be like to hand over the keys to Hell and hightail it out of here like his predecessor.

“Done.”

Sariel’s face lit up, grey eyes going luminous and silver, and she shook Jensen’s hand before skipping off in the direction of the palace.

Jensen, a being of infinitely more decorum if not age, followed behind. Let her lead him up the stairs, into the grand library, and to a huge book that she lifted with no issues and opened to exactly the page she wanted.

Which made him question several things about both the fallen angel and the situation at hand.

“Here it is. Job. That was the 13th devil, a man once named Hezekiah. He was devil for forty-eight years.”

It took everything in Jensen not to scream. Forty-eight? Forty-eight lousy years? If Jensen had known he could have been out of here in under a hundred he would have taken God up on more social calls.

“So if he lost the bet how did he get out of the deal with God?”

Pages flipped, and she pointed to an elaborate portrait of a hunch-backed man walking out of the gates of Hell.

“See? There’s him leaving. That little shadow you see in the corner there is Jacob, the 14th devil, who reigned for three hundred and five years before his contract was deemed finished.”

“You skipped a bit.”

She looked up, eyebrow lifted again, and then put on an innocent mask that could not have fooled the dimmest bulb on the planet.

“Did I? I don’t remember that. So, anyway, God came down here to Hell and spoke with Hezekiah about a way out. He said that he would like to set up a wager with Hezekiah to test a righteous man. That at the end of it if Hezekiah could turn the righteous man than he would win the bet, but if he couldn’t then he would stay the devil. Hezekiah was a very lousy devil, not nearly as organized or efficient as you, and kinda hideous. Actually, now that I think about it, he may be the reason everybody thinks you’re going to be hideous. After all his predecessors were all very attractive and-“

“Sariel!”

She looked up from the book, surprise honest this time.

“Focus.”

“Oh. Yes. Anyway. They started the bet, and Hezekiah began plaguing Job. He took his lands, his money, his farm animals, and his family. Then he took his health. So. Literally plagued him I guess. Job suffered every loss imaginable. And then God won and got to have a really great story written about him that basically taught man to stop fucking complaining because it can always get worse. Because God _really_ likes teaching by anecdote.”

“But Hezekiah got out anyway.”

Head tilt. Thoughtful. And then Jensen watched the light bulb come on for her.

“Oh! Yeah! That. Well, see, halfway through Hezekiah started to back out. Said that he couldn’t handle torturing poor Job.”

“A very unusual position for a devil.”

Jensen watched Sariel’s face flicker, an expression he’d never seen crossing it for a brief moment before she settled into something a little bit like dismissal and a little bit like distaste.

“Yes, well, Hezekiah was only half the devil you are. So God changed the deal. If Hezekiah could see it through to the end so that God would get his anecdote then he would get out. And Hezekiah held to the deal and finished the bet. Thus.” She gestured to the image of the hunch-backed devil leaving through the gates again.

“So all I have to do is either win, or promise to hold steady?”

“Looks that way Lord. It’s a win win either way really. You’re way tougher than Hezekiah. I seriously doubt you won’t win.”

Jensen doubted it too.

“Take your Earthside days. When you get back I’ll be free.”

And at that Sariel smiled, face full of honest and open joy. A thing Jensen wasn’t sure he had really seen on her before.

It was a little creepy.

“I’m sure you will.”

With that she disappeared, and Jensen was left alone to stand in his library staring at the true account of Job, and all his predecessors.

Each one ending their interminable contract with a simple bet.

 

\-----

 

Jared stretched slow and long, listening to his back pop in multiple places as he stood for the first time in four hours. He hadn’t expected the surgery to take that long. Dr. Cortese stepped back and pulled her gloves off, eyes crinkling above her mask in joy at the finished product of all her hard work.

The two of them walked out into the scrub room together, and Jared pulled his mask off and took a deep breath of fresh air before turning the water on to wash his face and hands.

“You still haven’t gotten that sweating under control. You know, with a little snip here and there I can cut those glands out for you and save hundreds of future white shirts and scrubs.”

Jared laughed splashed water in her direction, and then focused on bathing some more in the cool sink.

“You must have missed the part in med school where they explained why sweating is natural and healthy. Lots of people like my sweat. Makes up my distinctive musk.”

Gen rolled her eyes and pulled her own mask off. She joined Jared at the sink and started washing her hands briskly.

“Yeah. Distinctive. Like a skunk.”

“Hey now!”

The head nurse joined them at the sink, laughing and Jared was pretty sure he was going to have to soak both of them before they learned their lesson.

“I’ll have you know many a man and woman has been lured in by smell.”

“Like Pepe LePew?” Gen dodged his next spray and danced out of the scrub room laughing with her head tilted back.

It was easy for her to laugh. They had successfully pulled off yet another serious heart surgery, and that meant Gen was going to head into the waiting room and tell the nervous family members that they were getting their mother back with no complications or issues.

They all lived for that moment.

Jared wouldn’t be joining her this time though. He had an appointment at a bar with his new novel and at least three good IPAs. Maybe six if he felt like taking a cab home. The Safe House was close enough he could leave his car in the secure parking garage tonight and come back for it in the morning when his next shift started.

“You going back to that dive tonight Jared?”

He turned from the sink to see Danneel studying him, her hand discarding a towel in the big bin and eyes considering and suspicious.

“I. Maybe. Why?”

Her lips curled devilishly, and Jared knew instantly that he was going to regret staying behind with her.

“Can I come?”

 _Yep_. Regretting it already.

“Danni. Look. I’m just going to read my book.”

“Uh-huh. Read your book. Alone. In a _bar_.”

“Yes.”

Victory. Her expression was victory, and Jared felt a cold chill climb down his spine.

“What’s the book about?”

And sure enough, like a magic trick, Jared couldn’t remember.

“It’s a fantasy novel.”

“Oh. _That’s_ descriptive. What else is it about?”

He cast out in his memory to try to dig up the details, but he had just been starting it a few nights ago and he hadn’t really managed to focus on it since then. A thing that Danneel, witch that she was, had somehow figured out.

“Dragons.”

“And knights and wizards? Yeah. Gen and I will see you there Jared.”

She went up on her tiptoes, lips pressing against his cheek, and Jared couldn’t curse at her the way he wanted.

“Ok. See you two there.”

 

 

\----

 

 

Jared was a lucky man. More so than he ever could thank anyone for. He had a good job that allowed him to help people without any fear of it being repetitive or soul-crushing. He had an excellent success rate, and worked in a hospital with doctors that were all devoted to their cause.

He had family that he loved more than anything, and that loved him too. Any time he wanted he could go see his sister or brother and know that they were also doing alright. His mother and father lived close too, and they were both healthy and happy. Every Wednesday they still had family night, and Jared could count on any one of them being there if he needed them.

The shelter was doing amazing, and Jared was getting back some of his free time now that they had a better support staff and a strong donor base. He still went weekly to take time washing and exercising the animals, caring for their pens, and assisting with off-site adoptions.

His own dogs were well-behaved and loving, and greeted him every night when he got home. His neighbors were excellent, his landlord was friendly and responsive about issues, and Jared was one door down from his best friends.

And on the friend front. Well. Jared had plenty of those. He worked with a fair number of them, but he was still in close contact with high school friends, and he never lacked for companionship. Truly, Jared was blessed. He believed that. He wasn’t about to go around preaching to strangers about the goodness of God, but the many joys of his life were example enough of the belief system he had been raised with paying off.

The only thing Jared was lacking was someone to share it all with. It wasn’t that he didn’t get hit on, or that he didn’t hit on others. It was that Jared hadn’t found the right one yet. He’d tried singles meetings in his church to no avail, tried looking at other people that were dedicated to the cause of needy animals, or attached to the healthcare profession, and had no luck.

Jared had even done a speed-dating event for video game players. That had been…interesting. But nothing had come of any of it. Jared had met a large number of people who had the same values and beliefs as him.

And had been bored with all of them.

Sometimes he thought that he was simply flawed somehow, that he was always going to be looking for something over the horizon that didn’t exist. It wasn’t that he felt wanderlust in any other aspect of his life, but he certainly couldn’t seem to be settled and happy with any of the potential partners that he had met.

Until the other night.

Jared liked the Safe House. On nights when he felt like blowing off steam and having a beer alone it was one of his top three choices. It was quirky, small, and close to work. Still he usually only went there once or twice a month.

He had been every night for the last two weeks.

Every time he would sit down at the same table, same beer in front of him, and open his book.

And then sit staring at the door.

There was no hope of lying to himself. He was waiting for Jensen. That weird, somewhat jaded, rather dour guy that had wandered up to his table and started the most bizarre conversation Jared had ever had.

He didn’t think they had much in common, the conversation had basically proved that, but he did think there was something about the other man besides him being ridiculously handsome, that made Jared want to see him again. And again. And again.

Jared was still kicking his own ass for not asking for Jensen’s number before he left the bar, but he had an early surgery and he couldn’t stay any later.

Instead he was having to rely on the supposition that if the man came to the Safe House once he would come again. He’d said he liked the place, and he’d said it while staring at Jared’s mouth.

Those seemed like pretty good odds.

He had been very careful to not explain to Gen and Danni why he was spending so much time at the little bar, and only half because he thought that he would jinx himself. His good-hearted friends were so happy together they were a little fanatical about making sure everyone else around them was happy too. Jared had noticed it was a condition common in both recovered addicts and people in love.

This had led to them engineering several “meet cutes” between Jared and potential life partners. He had dodged dates with two nurses, an obstetrician, a professional gamer, and a lacrosse player. The last one had been a patient of Gen’s, and Jared had found it very hard to say no to the man.

Very hard indeed.

If there was something there between him and Jensen he didn’t want the two of them forcing the issue and making it explode before it was even formed. He wanted to give this thing the best chance he possibly could.

That being said, he couldn’t retract his invitation now. They would show up whether he wanted them there or not. Better to have them sitting at his table in a good mood then standing at the bar in a mischievous one.

And at first it seems to have been the better choice. Gen and Danneel are perfectly balanced. They are a team, both in the hospital and outside of it. For every bit of flamboyant and loud behavior that Gen lavishes on anyone around her Danneel is balanced and calm. Quiet. Not to say that she is any less a ball of trouble than Gen, but she’s sneakier about it.

They keep him distracted, entertained, and laughing all through the long wait. Which would be great, if it weren’t for the fact that they also get him totally plastered by twelve o’clock.

And Jensen walks through the door at twelve twenty.

Something happens when the man enters the room. It could be the four car bombs that Jared has consumed, but he is pretty sure the air changes when the door swings shut behind him. Green eyes scan the room, land on Jared, and then Jensen is crossing the floor with a smile on his face.

Gen looks up from the shot she was pondering, her smile wavering for half a second before becoming solidified, and then she nudges Jared not too gently in the ribs.

“That’s him right? That’s him. I can tell that’s him.”

It’s so him.

“Yeah Gen.”

“Well he’s headed this way.” Danneel takes her shot and then licks her lips. “And he’s perfect for you.”

Jensen stops right in front of their table, smile lingering on his lips, and then points to Jared’s drink.

“Would you like another one of those? On me?”

And Jared thinks it’s a dream. He’s just as handsome as he was last time, seems just as charming, and has already managed to not piss off Gen or Danneel in the first five seconds. The night is full of promise.

“You’re so pretty.”

_This is the worst night of his life._

Danneel’s mouth opens in horror even as Gen bursts into laughter.

“Thank you Jared. I think you’re pretty too. Maybe I should get you a glass of water.”

Jared manages to shake his head even as his hand extends itself, open, and he’s not even sure what he’s asking Jensen to hand him. Whatever it is Jensen disappears to the bar, and then comes back and deposits a glass of water in Jared’s hand. He immediately lifts it and says one slurry “Salut” before pouring it down his shirt.

Gen pulls off being human, a mighty feat for her, and immediately attempts to distract Jensen while Danneel attacks Jared with the biggest glob of napkins the world has ever seen.

He’s never been this drunk he’s pretty sure, and there’s Jensen, his potential soul mate, watching the whole thing with a little twinkle in his pretty green eyes that Jared is fairly certain is the death of anything they could have.

To be fair it has been a while since Jared pulled off a real relationship, but he is ninety percent certain that you don’t attract a mate by being a laughingstock.

Jensen finally steps around Gen and takes Jared’s hand gently.

“Let me help you.”

And then they’re walking into the bathroom where Jensen is leading Jared, firmly and quietly, to the hand dryer.

“Shirt off Jared.”

And this, Jared thinks, is finally a leg up because even drunk as shit and unable to say anything with the slightest hint of intelligence Jared knows that being shirtless is a big point grabber for him. He strips with a tiny bit of finesse and hands Jensen the shirt with a little drunk flourish. Jensen smiles in response, eyes lingering on Jared’s chest and stomach as he runs the shirt under the hand dryer for what seems like way too little time before holding it back out.

“All taken care of.”

And sure enough it’s dry. Jared lets Jensen lead him back to the table, and when a second glass of water appears Jared holds it carefully with both hands. Jensen is talking to Gen, eyes lit up from the inside and mouth curled into a smile. They appear to be talking about some kind of TV show that Jared doesn’t recognize, and he’s ok with just watching as his tongue reconnects with his lost and drunken brain.

“He is really good looking.”

Jared looks over at Danneel expecting to see her trademark smirk. Instead she seems pensive.

“Yes?”

“And charming.”

Jared nods, not sure why these positives are making her look this way.

“And Gen really likes him.”

“Are you jealous?”

It’s said with incredulity, because there’s nothing on this earth that could split apart Gen and Danni and both of them know it.

“ _No._ No I’m not jealous. It’s just…there’s something. Something’s off about him. You don’t think there’s something off about him?”

And yes, Jared does think there’s something off about Jensen. Namely that Jensen who has been utterly perfect so far has walked in at just the right time to put the finishing touches on Jared’s perfect life. It’s just the right time for Jared to meet someone like Jensen.

But why look a gift horse in the mouth?

“Not really Danni. I’m kinda missing your point.”

Danneel’s mouth purses and relaxes, words forming in her brain that Jared can see her turning over and dismissing, and then she shakes her head and lets out a forced laugh.

“Never mind. Sorry. I don’t know what I’m saying.”

“Jared! Jared I love this guy! He watches _Crossing Jordan_!”

Jared doesn’t know what that means, but Jensen slips onto the stool beside him and their shoulders brush and he feels a bolt of electricity.

“That’s great!” Jared is pretty sure that’s great. “So Jensen, where have you been?”

Jensen’s eyes roam the bar as his fingers play with the neck of the beer bottle he’s picked up at some point.

“I had some work stuff to deal with, but it’s taken care of now. I thought I would come back around and see if I could find you again.”

“You found me!” It sounds too excited, too childlike, so Jared tries to cover it up with a sexy smile and is only fairly certain he doesn’t look like an idiot. “What was the problem?”

“My boss dropped a huge project on me and then my second in command took a vacation. I had to find someone to handle things while I was out and about taking care of the project.”

“What’s the project?”

Jensen sipped from his beer.

“It’s…hard to explain. I told you I sell luxury items right?”

“Right.”

“Doing that is easy. Those people want that stuff. They’re geared towards it. Selling a greedy businessman a gold-plated car is child’s play. But my boss wants something different. He’s picked this guy, crazy rich but not greedy or proud, and he wants me to sell him something pretty big. Something I’ve never had to sell before.”

Jared can’t help the way his head tilts a little, even though he knows that Gen calls it his confused puppy dog face.

“You sold somebody a gold-plated car? How does that work? That would be awful.”

Jensen laughs, that smile that Jared fell for the first night reappearing on his face. It’s an odd little thing, nothing like the one that he was giving Gen when he was talking to her or the one he had when he walked through the door tonight. There’s something confused in it, as if Jensen doesn’t know how he’s smiling.

“He was an idiot. A lot of them are. All you have to do is find their weakness and exploit it. For him it was a combination. He wanted everyone to know that he was rich and crazy masculine. What displays that better than gold and sports cars?”

And he’s got a point, but Jared still wonders about a company that would make a gold car. It doesn’t sound like something that would be mass produced. When Jared first met him Jensen was talking about _Skymall_ , but _Skymall_ definitely didn’t make to order items.

“So. You guys make specialty shit to sell to greedy people? They don’t ask you for it you just sell them on something expensive and make it then?”

Jared sees it for only a second, a hesitation, something drawn and withheld in Jensen that Jared has never seen before. He’s not sure what it is or why it happens, but he remembers what Danni said before about her reservations about Jensen. It’s gone when Jensen smiles again, one hand landing on Jared’s elbow and fingers curling to cup the bone gently.

“Like I said before, luxury items. We have a very strong network of artisans that can do anything we need, so we can sell anything we want. To a targeted audience.”

And then he feels the strength of Jensen’s fingers flex as a voice draws his attention away.

“Jared? Can I talk to you for a moment?”

Jared doesn’t know the guy. Doesn’t know why he’s there or why he knows Jared’s name. On the other hand he doesn’t want to embarrass the guy or make the moment weird. Everything is going so well.

“Yeah. Sure.”

He follows the guy away from the table, smiling at Gen’s questioning look and Danni’s concern.

When they finally stop, halfway across the bar, Jared is pretty sure that he’s about to have to decline an advance. The guy is smiling, but it’s not reaching his eyes. It’s weird. Everything is suddenly weird. Jared feels slow and drugged.

“I need a new shipment.”

Jared feels the world shift a little, the booze must be hitting him hard again because everything is wobbling and confusing.

“You need a what?”

“You owe me another shipment. I want it.”

“What the hell are you talking about man?”

The guy grabs Jared’s shirt, and Jared reacts on instinct, knocking the hands off and pushing the jerk away. He falls backwards into another patron, mouth open in shock and rage, and then Jared is planting his feet firmly when the stranger springs forward and drives a fist into his stomach.

A fight.

Jared hasn’t been in a fight in years and it’s all muscle memory for how to hold his fist, how to take the hits that are coming at him, and how to return them with as much power as he can.

And then hands are pulling them apart, and Gen is yelling but Jared can’t understand her. He’s too busy looking around, trying to figure out what is wrong with the world he’s found himself in. How much did he drink?

On one hand Jared can count the number of times he’s gotten physically violent, and each of them ended in hugging it out after some pushing. He’s never done this. _Never_. Gen is looking at him like he’s an alien and Danneel’s face has closed off entirely. Jensen steps past the two women, taking Jared’s elbow again and leading him out of the bar at the direction of the bouncer.

He’ll be banned from the Safe House for a while. Which sucks, but also he’s pretty sure he scared his two best friends in the whole wide world and he’s pretty sure he just broke a guy’s nose. All in all, Jared has royally screwed up everything.

Danni approaches them in the parking lot where Jared is breathing the cool clear air and trying to figure out how to salvage just a little bit of this.

“Jared. We’re gonna go home. We’ll see you tomorrow ok?”

“Danni. Danni I’m sorry it just-that guy. That guy was so- I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

He can’t make his tongue work right, can’t tell her everything that happened and all of his confusion. All he has is useless platitudes and confusion.

“It’s ok Jay. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

She leaves, and Jared hopes that using his nickname was some sign that they won’t be totally pissed at him for going barbarian for no logical reason at all.

Jared only gets to wallow in his misery for a few seconds before that warm, firm hand lands on his shoulder and grips him again. Jared is turned and finds himself facing Jensen, who looks wholly understanding and kind.

“What an asshole that guy was. Good on you for putting him down a peg.”

Again, something vicious and a little foreign rests in Jensen’s face, mixed up with the rest of it, and Jared feels that disquiet again.

“No. Not good for me.”

Jensen’s surprise is honest and sudden.

“What do you mean? You stood up for yourself. Showed him who was-“

“No. No Jensen. That may matter to you but it far from matters to me. I’m a nurse. I work to save lives and heal pain. I don’t cause it. That’s why Gen and Danni are so angry, and that’s why it’s bad. You may buy into that machismo bullshit about asserting yourself, but I don’t. And I think I need to say goodnight.”

It’s the last ending to this night Jared ever pictured. He leaves Jensen, handsome face confused, standing in the parking lot as he makes his way back to the hospital. He’ll sleep it off in the lounge and start again tomorrow.

Still single.

[Part Two](http://dimeliora.livejournal.com/58499.html)   
[MasterPost](http://dimeliora.livejournal.com/59495.html)   



	2. The Luck of Job Part 2

There's a fork in the road in front of me,  
At the crossroads of identity.  
The Devil is standing to the left.  
He says "Either way, they both lead to death."   
And the high road's steady and steep,  
And the low road's easy and deep.  
Guess I'll follow, follow, follow my feet.   


 

 

 

Jensen sits on his throne, brooding and thinking of his failed first attempt. Azazel is in the throne room with him, listing off complaints as Jensen remembers how Jared walked away from him.

“And then, Lord, the human _spit_ on me and I-“

No one had ever walked away from Jensen. Not in life, and certainly not since he became the devil. What the hell had happened? It had been going so well. Jensen had sown all the seeds, but for this to work perfectly he needed Jared’s trust. He needed the man to believe in him, first as Jensen and then as the Devil. How else could he turn Jared from God?

Sure, he could wait for Jared to hold out and God to offer him the other option, but freedom is _so close_. Jensen has been locked down here for so long that the mere idea of being free of it is too much to wait for. He has certainly learned patience to an epic degree in his time here, but he can’t be patient about this. He can’t wait any longer to be free of this nightmare.

If Jensen had known what he was getting into when he signed the contract maybe he would have thought twice. It had seemed like a position of power. It had seemed like an honest escape.

It had been neither.

“Lord, are you listening?”

He looks up to see that Azazel is glaring at him, fists curled tightly, and Jensen can’t even make himself pretend to care today.

“How long have you been dealing with these souls? And you’re _surprised_ that they don’t like you? They’re never going to like you. And if you’re hoping they’ll respect you then let me assure you that knowing that you come here to whine like a little girl won’t help them with that either. Nut up and deal with it.”

“Nu-nut up? What kind of devil _are you_?”

“A shitty one. Deal with that too.”

And maybe it’s childish, especially considering the lecture he just gave the fallen angel, but Jensen walks out on that. That being said Jensen feels a little vindicated by the surge of energy it gives him. He _isn’t_ a shitty devil. That’s the problem. Jensen has turned out to be very good at this job.  He’s been able to talk anyone he’s come across into selling their soul for pittances, but he can’t even get Jared Padalecki to finish a date with him.

Jensen stops, feet skidding on the stone floor of the hallway, eyes going wide as his internal choice of words comes back to him.

He needs Sariel.

 

\----

 

Jared is busily hosing down runs and _not_ thinking about Jensen. It’s important that he stress that he’s not thinking about Jensen. He’s gotten over fifteen calls from the man that he hasn’t answered, and one very odd flower bouquet that would have been more fitting at a funeral. Gen laughed at it, but Danni shot him a look that he wasn’t sure he could read properly.

He’s not sure what happened that night, but it’s taken time for his friends to let the incident go and move on. There’s no more awkwardness between them, but Jared feels like he should still be apologizing.

Their entire lives are devoted to bettering the world and he acted like a barbarian. Jensen approving the action really only makes it worse. Is that the sort of man that Jared really wants? There was something about Jensen, _still is_ a traitorous little voice inside Jared responds; that really sets him apart. That made him someone that Jared thought would stand out from the crowd that he was used to interacting with.

So what does that say about Jared? Did the part of him that sensed that in Jensen also sense Jensen’s complete opposition to Jared’s ideals?

“If you were any further away you’d be in Canada kid. What’s going on?”

Jared looks up to see that Jeff, the head of the shelter and their on-call vet, is standing in the walkway holding a puppy with a bandaged paw. Jeff has been very good about working with Jared’s schedule, and a lot of times Jared has worked into the late night with Jeff to finish the work they didn’t get done during normal business hours. As a result the two have become fairly good friends.

Maybe not good enough to discuss Jared’s love life though.

“Just life stuff. You know. What happened to that little guy?”

Jeff looks down at the wiggling puppy in his arms and his face goes sad.

“Assholes that owned him stomped on his paw. Just finished a little patching up.”

It’s hard, in moments like this, to maintain the positivity Jared has cultivated for most of his life.

“Do you need any help?”

Jeff laughs at that, pointing with his free hand at the hose Jared is holding.

“Nah kid, I’d rather you keep hosing down shit and I’ll go get him settled in an observation cage. When you’re done with that I need help unloading a truck of donations if you’ve still got time.”

He nods once and watches Jeff heading back down the hall with the puppy in his arms. When Jared was little he thought that life would be easier as an animal. His time in the shelter has proven that wrong. It’s never failed to amaze Jared the simplistic cruelty of human beings. He remembers talking to his pastor about it the first week at the shelter, asking how god could allow such a thing.

There had never been a satisfactory answer.

Jared shakes his head, trying to banish the melancholy and unpleasant thoughts and get back into the swing of cleaning out the runs for the animals under his care.

It does him no good to focus on this. He needs to move on. This one didn’t work. The next one will. He’d only met Jensen twice after all. It wasn’t like a long standing love affair.

That’s all there is to it.

 

\----

 

She’s pissed off.

Jensen knows it the moment he sees her.

“I had four days left. _Four_. Do you know how much I can get done in four days?”

Sariel practically slams her bags down on the bed. There’s more than any one person should be able to hold on to. She starts to rifle through them, pulling out pieces of clothing that Jensen is not sure why she has procured or what she will do with.

“I need you.”

The fallen angel rolls her eyes, lining a filmy little dress up against her body in the reflection of a mirror that wasn’t there a moment ago. Her eyes study it closely before she drops it back onto the bed.

“Sariel. I _need_ you.”

At that she looks up from the bags, lips pursed in displeasure.

“I know that you don’t like it down here Jensen. I am aware of that. I know that you would rather be anywhere else doing anything else. That being said, there are other fallen angels that you can work with. They may be annoying, and occasionally dumber than a box of rocks, but they are useful soldiers. They were _created_ to be useful soldiers. All you need to do is tell them to keep people in line and make them suffer and you can go about your business without-“

“He hates me.”

The fallen angel stops entirely. All the fight seems to go out of her at that, and she sits down on the bed and raises both arms in a confused shrug.

“So?”

“So. I can’t convert him to my purpose if he hates me.”

For half a second Jensen thinks he’s made sense to her, but then she stands up and puts her hands on his shoulders. When she speaks it’s slow and purposeful, as if to a particularly dim child.

“Everyone hates you. You’re the devil. That’s your job.”

“But this isn’t like everyone Sariel. This isn’t me asking him to give in to what he wants anyway. It’s me selling him _me_.”

Her mouth purses again, and then she steps back.

“Tell me exactly what happened.”

And he does. In all the detail he can manage despite his confusion about the exact chain of events.

When he’s done she cuffs him on the back of the head and Jensen thinks not for the first time that maybe he needs a new second in command because this sort of disrespect should not be so easy for her.

“Did you spend your entire time being human living in the mountains alone? What the hell is wrong with you?”

“What do you mean what’s wrong with _me_? What’s wrong with _him_? Who doesn’t like being comforted and told they made the right choice? Why does that get me dumped and hit?”

Sariel gives him that look again, but there’s an underlying pity in it that doesn’t seem sarcastic or demeaning. And that makes Jensen uneasy.

“Jensen, do you remember when you first came here, and everything was fresh and new?”

He does. He remembers seeing the torture and feeling like his brain would split in half. He remembers thinking that getting his hair cut was the biggest mistake he ever made in his life. He remembers how he used to sit in the throne room with his head in his hands as the demons and the fallen angels bickered back and forth.

And he remembers how Sariel stepped forward and told all of them that they were done talking for the week, and that there was going to be a no contact period for breaking the new lord in or she was going to go on a rampage.

“Yes. Why?”

“We had that long talk about what was and wasn’t acceptable to say in front of the troops. Remember?”

“Yes.”

“And in that list were things like compassion, empathy, and understanding. Anything to do with those topics. We weeded those out didn’t we? Agreed that to do this job you had to show them a good strong front.”

“Yes.” Jensen is getting suspicious.

“I would suggest, when speaking to anyone like myself, or _especially_ to God, that you don’t use the word dumped when it comes to the human.”

Jensen thinks of his aha moment in the hallway, and feels something cold trickle down his spine.

“It’s not like that. It was a poor choice of words. He’s a job just like the others even if it’s a different goal. I don’t think of him like that.”

Sariel tilts her head, and Jensen hates it and her.

“I _don’t_. Stop that. I just said it wrong.”

Tilts a little more.

“I can ban you from the surface for the rest of time.”

“Only if you’re still stuck here for the rest of time. Do you plan on being stuck here that long?”

“No.”

“Then you better stop posturing and listen to me, my sweet little lord, because I know what makes you tick better than you do. I have seen the insides of more humans than you can imagine and while you might lie to yourself successfully you won’t lie to me with the same efficiency. _Now_. Your problem is that you approached this like a job. You tried to appeal to his bad side. He’s the target of this little bet because he doesn’t _have_ a bad side. Not like that. If you want to get to him you need to appeal to his heart. Make him love you, Jensen, the idiot from Texas and then he’ll rely on you. Finish the rest of it behind the scenes and when his whole tower comes falling down on his head he’ll drag himself out bleeding and wrecked and drink poison from your hands. Happily.”

Jensen listens.

\-----

After what Jared would argue is the longest shift in the history of the universe he calls his mom to keep him awake on the ride home. She answers on the second ring, and Jared can hear that she’s baking from the low grunts of concentration she lets out mid sentence.

His mother has always been a passionate baker, even if she’s never been a very good one.

_“How’s work honey?”_

Jared thinks of the fourth surgery in a row and tries to hold back his groan. His mother worries.

“Good. You know. Busy sometimes. Today was kinda long.”

She grunts again, and then Jared hears what he thinks may have been a curse word under her breath.

_“Oh yeah? I’m sorry. How are Gen and Danni?”_

“Insane, tyrannical, out of control, mad with-“

_“So normal. That’s good. And on the dating front? Any closer to making me a mother-in-law?”_

“Mom you know I can’t get married.” Jared turns, slowing down on the curve to make sure that he’s taking it the way the cops want him too.

_“You can have a ceremony. Or we can go out of state. There’s all sorts of things we can do. I’m not asking for much. You know your brother settled down for me.”_

“He also finished med school and became a doctor.”

His mother breathes deep, and then Jared hears his father’s laughter and knows that something has gone terribly wrong on her end with the baked goods.

_“I don’t care about that as long as you’re happy. And not sleeping alone in some crummy little apartment wasting your youth on work. On top of that I think-“_

It’s a desperation move. Jared can’t help it. He just needs her to stop because he’s too tired.

“There is someone.”

There’s a long silence, and then Jared hears an echo that suggests he’s been put on speakerphone.

_“Tell us everything sugarbear.”_

Jared winces at the nickname and pulls into his parking lot. He’s too tired to climb the stairs and go in at the moment, so he puts his head on the steering wheel.

“I don’t know momma. It’s a bit early for that.”

_“The hell it is.”_ His father, voice eager and excited.

Jared knows he’s lucky that his parents are so understanding and loving, but some days...

“He’s…really handsome. Funny. But a little bit different.”

_“Different how?”_ His mother, mouth close to the phone.

“It was so weird momma. I got into a fight at the bar-“

_“You what?”_ Both parents together.

“I must have drank too much. Nobody got hurt but there was some shoving. I’m not proud of it.”

His father sounds a little sad. _“We all make mistakes kiddo. Tell us the rest.”_

Jared foresees a call from Pastor Bob tomorrow. His parents will give him a day. He has a local church, but Pastor Bob helped raise him and Jared is still a member of his flock.

“He told me I did the right thing pushing the guy. He was really…it was weird. Happy? He was happy about it.”

There’s quiet muttering, his parents sharing a conversation that isn’t really his to hear, and then his mother takes the phone over and the speakerphone sound is gone.

_“Sugarbear, listen, not everybody was raised the way you were, or instilled with the ideas you were. You remember all those mission trips we never sent you on? And you asked us why?”_

Jared does. He remembers being jealous of all his friends in church who got to go to exotic places and spread the Word, how proud he was of all their reports and presentations about the missions themselves.

“Yeah.”

_“Well we didn’t send you because while the work they did was good, the purpose of it wasn’t what we wanted you to do. We love the church, we love our Lord, but that doesn’t mean everybody else does too. Help should be offered without strings honey. You have to see the differences between yourself and others and embrace them. If they look at you and want to change to emulate your behavior that’s fine. If they don’t as long as you stay yourself it’s all ok.”_

Jared manages to open his car door and drag himself up the stairs, his eyes focused downward on the keys in his hands as he sorts them to find the right one.

“So what you’re saying is give it another chance and see if I can’t accept him for who he is?”

_“I’m saying bring him for dinner in the next month or two, because he’s the first boy you’ve ever brought up on your own.”_

“Ok momma, I’ll bring him over in the next couple of weeks. I promise.”

_“That’s good sugarbear. I love you. Dad does too.”_

“Love you too.”

Jared hangs up, and then looks up with the key in his hand. Jensen is standing there, an awkward smile on his face.

“I don’t suppose I’m lucky enough to be going to dinner?”

And Jared doesn’t know what to say.

 

\----

 

Jensen is seated across from Jared, staring at the other man over his small dining table. Jensen looks around the apartment and thinks that it doesn’t quite match the description of Job’s wealth in the original book.

It’s small, homey, but mostly bare. There’s a gaming system that’s one generation behind, a big couch that looks comfortable but secondhand, and the walls are practically papered in pictures. Two big dogs mill around, moving back and forth between sniffing Jensen and begging Jared for attention.

Jensen has never seen someone seem so happy with so little.

“How did you know where I lived?”

One of the big dogs licks Jensen’s hand and he jumps a little. It always shocks him when animals like him. He thought he would be hated.

“I looked you up. I’m sorry. That might be creepy.”

“It’s very creepy. You know where I worked why didn’t you just come there?”

Sariel told him to be honest, not totally honest, but _mostly_ honest. Enough that he could relate to Jared. Seem likable.

“Your friend Danni doesn’t like me and I thought I would have a better chance here where she isn’t.”

Jared starts to protest, thinks better of it, and reaches down to pet one big canine head.

“Look, Jensen, it’s come to my attention that-“

He has to stop him. If Jared gets too much time to argue himself out of this little ambush Jensen will have taken another step back.

“I’ve never dated anybody.”

Jared’s disbelief is written in his eyebrows.

“I mean _dated_ dated. I’ve been with people. A fair amount of people. But I’ve never dated someone. Dinner and a movie. Honest conversation. A picnic or a meet the parents. I’ve never done that. I don’t know how to do that. I might not be exactly the kind of man that fits your…charitable lifestyle, but I think I could be a good man for you. I might be a little violent, I might be a little rough, but I’m funny and I’m smart. I’m loyal. Those are pretty worthwhile traits right?”

Jared’s mouth twitches, something that might be a smile trying to break through or Jared trying not to say something hideous, and then the other man reaches out and takes his hands. Jared’s hands are rough, big, and warm. Jensen kind of likes them.

“Very worthwhile. I’m sorry. I judged you pretty harshly and that’s not what I was raised to do.”

And that…that was not what Jensen was expecting. Even in his wildest imagination, his best case scenario; that is not what Jensen thought would happen.

“You don’t have to apologize.”

“I do. I was out of it that night. Crazy drunk and flying off the handle. I shouldn’t have pushed that guy, but I shouldn’t have walked off on you like that because you agreed with my behavior. You don’t have to think like me to date me. That would be pretty boring.”

And Jensen? Little bit overwhelmed.

“Well. I’m glad you agree. Um. You want to go on a date? No booze involved at all, and no bar fights. I’ll even skip the usual first date bank heist.”

Jared’s laugh is precious, done with his whole body, and the hands holding Jensen’s tighten briefly and then release. It gives Jensen a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“Yeah. I’d like that.”

“What kind of date do you want? I’ll even watch shitty movies to get the general idea of how to do it.”

The head tilts, big puppy dog eyes sparkling with mirth, and Jensen thinks in all his years he’s never seen someone so perfectly open and genuine.

It’s a little frightening.

“I think a picnic sounds best.”

 

\----

 

Jared answers his door on Saturday, and Jensen is standing outside of it with a giant basket. He tries, very hard, to not be giddy.

The sun is out, the weather is beautiful and mild, and Zeus and Ulysses have picked up on the fact that they are going out. They’re bouncing around, happy and loud, and Jared has to firm his stance to make sure that they don’t sneak past him.

“That. Is a very pink shirt.”

Nothing will dim his good mood, even Jensen not recognizing how awesome he looks in pink.

“It is the manliest of shirts. It is a shirt among shirts. Kings wear this color.”

Jensen’s mouth quirks up, eyes bright and mischievous.

“I think you mean Queens.”

Jared very good-heartedly slaps Jensen on the back of the head, and the other man laughs his way through leashing Jared’s giant beasts and taking them out to the car.

The ride is long, and Jared switches his focus back and forth between the scenery outside the window and the view in the driver’s seat. Jensen’s car is ultra modern, sleek and tricked out, and yet Jared is infinitely more interested in the driver than he is all the bells and whistles that sit on the console.

Jensen picks up on this as they are leaving city limits.

“What?”

“What what?”

Jensen quirks an eyebrow without taking his eyes off the road.

“You’re staring.”

Jared isn’t sure how he wants to respond. There’s no way to play off the fact that he was staring, and to be honest he doesn’t care to. He _does_ on the other hand want to avoid coming off clingy or weird on their first real date. Their first good real date.

“I just. Tell me something.”

“Something.”

Jared barely resists the urge to dig his fingers into Jensen’s armpit and see if the asshole is ticklish.

“Tell me something important about you. Something I need to know to get along with you.”

“I like dogs.”

Zeus barks from the backseat as if he knows that this statement is good for him. It makes Jared laugh, but it also makes him wonder.

“All I really know about you is that you’re tight-lipped, grumpy, and a little dark. All of which I could have guessed from knowing you work in sales. Tell me something new. Something I didn’t know before.”

Jensen hits the turn signal and they head out onto what looks like a road that was paved when Texas was founded. He slows the car down a little to make his way over the deep potholes, babying the luxury sedan along the path.

“I’m an only child.”

“Nope. Could’ve guessed that too. Look how spoiled you are about automobiles. And your clothes kind of-“

“Nothing about my clothes Mr. Pink.” Jensen smiles to ease the harshness of the words, but there’s a strain in the corner of his eyes that Jared can’t miss.

“Jensen. Is it that hard to tell me anything? I know you said you haven’t done this before but you must have realized it would include _some_ emotional sharing right?”

For a moment Jared thinks that this will be the world’s lamest deal-breaker, and then Jensen nods firmly and grips the wheel like he’s about to drive the car over a literal cliff.

“I’ve only ever made one friend. In my whole life.”

“Now _that_ one I find hard to believe. You? You’re so…charismatic.”

“Sure, I’m charismatic, but I’m not really a great friend. I never have been. Too wrapped up in what’s going on in my own life to properly pay attention to anyone else’s, too orderly to be fun, and too blunt to be lovable. I’ve just got all the wrong qualities to make friends.”

Jared feels his head tilting, and he sees Jensen side-eye him with something that looks a lot like fear.

“But you said you did make one. What do they seem to like about you?”

Jensen purses his lips, a noise emitting from the back of his throat like a click and a swallow mixed, and then he shrugs.

“Well, to be fair, she’s not really my friend she’s just my subordinate. But we’re together so much I guess that’s the closest I’ve ever come.”

“What does a second in command for a unique luxury items salesman do?”

Jensen’s eyes go a little dark, hands shifting on the wheel, and Jared feels a chill travel down his spine.

“Collections.”

He almost doesn’t want to ask the next question. Jared is afraid the answer will be even more unsettling than the previous one.

“Do you like your job?”

Without thinking, pausing, or even breathing Jensen answers.

“No.”

“Why do you do it then?”

Jensen shrugs, eyes still on the road.

“I sort of fell in to it. I figure that everybody hates their job, or almost everybody, and that I’m not too special about that. It was available when I needed something, and now I just can’t seem to get out of it.”

“But you would if you could.”

“Oh yeah, in a second. I would just drop my keys and walk away if it was an option.”

Jared reaches back to give Ulysses and Zeus a few rubs.

“Why do you hate it so much?”

“My coworkers are useless assholes, my customers are selfish and terrible people, and I do nothing all day but contribute to the waste and nonsense cluttering up the planet. The higher ups tell me that I’m important, that I serve a purpose, but in reality all I do is make things worse every single day.”

By the end of the little rant Jared knows for a fact that Jensen didn’t mean to say even a quarter of those things.

“Why don’t you quit?”

“I signed a contract that I can’t break. I’m working on loopholes now, but until I have it cemented down I just have to live with it.”

“But you get a fair amount of free time right? I mean how long have you been hanging around here?”

Jensen turned the wheel again and then pulled off the beaten down little road and into a wide clearing. He pointed through the windshield towards a giant old oak, limbs hanging low and casting heavy shade over the grass.

“Not long enough.”

 

\----

 

Jensen loves the smell of the earth. It wasn’t a thing he respected or appreciated when he was human, but now that his nostrils always seem to be clogged with blood and seared flesh and sulfur there is nothing quite like the smell of turned dirt and soaked earth.

The rain was this morning, and all that is left of it is the scent and grey clouds rolling gently through the sky and breaking the light into sheets along the fields. There isn’t even that steamy awfulness that sometimes happens when the heat index is too high and the water boils off of the ground.

Instead there is just beauty everywhere around him. Jensen takes it all in, and then looks to his left where Jared is throwing stick after stick and watching his dogs chase after them and then get too lazy to retrieve them. Jensen is fairly certain that at this point Jared has thrown every branch that the tree has ever shed.

Jared catches sunlight, traps it in his skin somehow, and it moves with him as he pulls his arm back and lets another stick fly far off into the distance. Zeus gives a half-hearted bark, but doesn’t even bother to move towards the projectile. Instead he flops onto his back and starts rubbing his face into the grass violently.

Peaceful. It’s peaceful. It’s also false, but Jensen needs Jared to like him and needs him out of town for a few hours. Things are starting to move, and Jensen can’t have Jared there dispelling the distrust and suspicion he is sowing.

When Jared flops down beside him on the blanket Jensen offers him another beer from the cooler, but Jared waves it away before pushing his hair back.

“How’d you get hired there anyway?”

Jared has really latched onto this topic, and Jensen wishes that he would let it go.

“It was very sudden. I got a haircut.”

Jared’s hand moves up and then stops, an aborted and self-conscious acknowledgment of his own messy mop. Jensen likes Jared’s hair.

“A haircut?”

“A haircut. It was overly long. Messy. So I stopped into a barber’s shop I didn’t know and asked for a haircut. I got into a debate there about religion, and the next thing I knew I had a job.”

It’s a wild oversimplification, but it’s as close as Jensen can get without explaining that the religious argument ended up being with God himself, and that Jensen talked his own stupid ass into becoming the devil. He didn’t even need to be sold on it.

“How does a religious debate get you a job?”

Jensen sighs, rubs his face to buy himself a moment to think, and then phrases it carefully. Sariel’s advice is ringing in his ears.

“There was a man in the barber shop who asked me what I thought about God. I told him that if God existed than his only purpose was to make us feel small and useless. He asked me if that wasn’t my own fault, if I wasn’t wasting my potential and blaming it on God. I told him, very plainly, that if I were given the chance to have power I would certainly use it, and that God would have nothing to do with my success. And then he offered me a job that would make me powerful.”

He can still remember the smile. Fatherly, gentle, slightly mocking. How it pushed a lonely and beaten down young man to simply take what was offered. To grab on with both hands to the possibility of finally being something more.

Jensen should have known something was wrong. He was a salesman himself. He should have seen the pitch.

“Do you really believe that? That God has nothing to do with your success?”

And Jensen’s answer, honest though it is, is not exactly the thing he’s trying to get Jared to buy into.

“I believe now that God had everything to do with my rise to power. And I hate him for it.”

Jared lifts an eyebrow, eyes going wide and surprised, and Jensen wonders if Jared has ever heard a real human being say such a thing before. If it ever really occurred to him that people could hate God that way.

“Because you hate your job? You hate God too?”

He nods, keeps it simple, and stretches his fingers out to rub the coarse hair of Ulysses’ face when the dog shoves it into his palm.

“Jensen, what about everything you love? If you believe God gave you this job how can you not believe that he gave you all the things you like too?”

“That’s a very short list Jared. I don’t disbelieve in God. I just see him for what he is. A cruel little boy burning ants with a magnifying glass.”

Jared licks his lips, and Jensen can see a thousand arguments crowding in his brain and fighting to get out all at once. Instead Jared nods once, takes a deep breath, and then nods again.

“I’m hungry for another sandwich.”

 

 

\----

Jared lets Jensen walk him to his door, and then says goodbye a little less firmly than he wants. Jensen looks like he wants to say more, to stay, but Jared needs to send him away and think.

A month ago if someone had said half the things Jensen said Jared would have scoffed and argued. He would have _had_ an argument. There’s something about Jensen that takes that argument away. Something that makes it so that it’s too hard for Jared to raise his voice and his flag.

Because, in a way, Jensen is only saying something that Jared has thought before. It’s always been a fault of his. Questioning without purpose or answers. It makes Jared want to call up his pastor and start a conversation. Just to have the right answers give to him so he can ease the turmoil in his head for a little bit.

Instead Jared plops down onto his couch and is immediately blanketed in warm, fuzzy dog. He stays there until he falls asleep.

When Jared wakes up it’s to the phone ringing not far from his head. The dogs have gone somewhere else during his sleep, and Jared fumbles in the dim light for the phone before picking it up and answering blindly.

_“Jared? Hey Jared?”_

He blinks, pulse racing at the tone.

“Yeah? What?”

_“Your shift started thirty minutes ago. Where the hell are you?”_

Jared looks at his watch and then starts to curse. He is miserably late.

“I fell asleep. Sorry. I’m headed there now.”

He hasn’t been late in years. Not since he was just finishing school and working so many shifts to cover loans that it felt like he was in a permanent state of hospital daze. Jared hangs up on Gen and pulls on scrubs, making it into the car and over to the hospital in record time.

The shift starts off on a bad note because Jared runs into the Dean of Medicine Jim Beaver yelling at the pharmacist. Jim, already pissed about whatever it is that the pharmacist did, turns on Jared and he gets reamed for being late.

Danni and Gen aren’t happy either, stuck with Tom Welling in the operating theater since Jared wasn’t there and schedules had to be kept. Tom is a fine worker, but he has the sense of humor of a sack of bricks, and the two of them always leave surgeries with Tom dour and stressed out.

Jared tries to explain at first, and then gives up and simply tries to make it through his shift without pissing anyone else off. It’s a long and thankless endeavor. By the end of the work day Jared is pretty sure that he’s become the whipping boy for the whole department and several others. Samantha, the head nurse, hasn’t smiled at him a single time all day. Which is unusual for her.

The only bright spot is that when Jared goes out into the parking lot Jensen is leaning on his car with a bouquet of sour straws and a lopsided smile.

Their third date is better than the first and second.

 

\----

 

“Lord, we must talk.”

Jensen doesn’t want to deal with this right now. He has a date in fifteen minutes, and he needs to get topside and to Jared’s apartment before he’s late.

He is _pretty_ sure he’s going to get a kiss tonight.

“Make it fast Azazel.”

The fallen angel squares up his shoulders and clears his throat.

“Lord, while I respect your position and your efficiency there have been some complaints recently, and I am not alone in thinking that you are leaving your duties unfinished in the interest of going up to the surface. “

Jensen turns on the ball of his foot, eyes going narrow. The fallen angel cowers just a little bit.

“Excuse you?”

“It’s just. Lord the numbers are down. The numbers have been steadily declining since you began this bet with God. If you don’t set the standard and act as a role model how can we be expected to continue bringing in souls to stock Hell?”

“My trips to the surface are a part of my job, as bringing in souls is yours. This was a task handed to me by God himself. You and the others shouldn’t need me to ‘set an example’ because you’ve been doing this longer than I can imagine. Just get your asses in gear and do your jobs.”

Azazel swallows and then stands up a little straighter.

“While I admire your lordship’s cruelty, the Job wager doesn’t negate your-“

“My cruelty? I’m not being cruel I’m being blunt. You have a job to do and you shouldn’t need me holding your hand to do it.”

The fallen angel lifts an eyebrow, seemingly confused, and Jensen watches him replay the conversation until he remembers the point that he’s become lost at.

“Oh no, no Lord I meant your cruelty to the Job.”

Jensen blinks, blinks again, and then steps forward.

“It’s not- that’s not- it’s temporary. It’s only temporary. As soon as we’re done God will give everything back to him and it’ll be even better than before.”

Azazel’s eyes are very wide, and Jensen watches the comically confused look on his face intensify.

“Give it back? Why would God give it back?”

Now it is Jensen’s turn to be confused. This is the second time a fallen angel hasn’t understood what he was talking about when he references a situation they were all alive and present for.

“He gives it back. After the bet is over and Jo- _Jared_ shows that he’s still faithful God returns everything and betters his life.”

“Lord, the Job doesn’t get anything back.”

“One, that’s not right. I read the passage myself. He gets everything back. Two, he’s not _the_ Job it’s just Job. It’s his name.”

Azazel brightens at that, a dumb student excited to finally have the right answer.

“Oh no! You see Lord that-“

And then Azazel is flying to the right and Sariel is standing in the place he once held with her chest heaving and her knuckles white and tight around the hilt of a knife.

“Jensen. Get the hell over to the adulterer section. There’s a goddamn revolt.”

Every thought flies out of Jensen’s head as he speeds across Hell to deal with what will no doubt be hours of diplomacy followed by directing new torture plans to quell future uprisings.

 

\---

 

Jensen is an hour late.

Jared sits in the restaurant ignoring the pitying looks from the waitress as he drinks his fourth glass of wine and munches on free bread. At this point he’s pretty sure that they’re only refilling the basket out of a reasonable fear regarding how drunk he would be without something to soak up the alcohol.

His boyfriend comes in after he finishes off the second basket, hair disheveled and jacket buttoned incorrectly, and takes the seat across from him.

“I’m sorry. Jared I’m really sorry about being so late, but there was an emergency at work and it took way longer to fix than I thought it would.”

Jared doesn’t ask Jensen what about luxury item purchasing could be an emergency. Instead he drains his glass and then points to the menu.

“Lobster and filet. On you Mr. Moneybags. That will only be the start of your penance.”

Jensen’s face cycles through confusion to joy, and he nods eagerly like an over excited child.

“Yes. Lobster and steak. And the biggest most expensive dessert they can come up with. Two of them if your stomach can handle it.”

And Jared lets it go at that. What’s the point of making it worse? His day has been long and shitty enough. This morning he was called into the Dean’s office, where Jim proceeded to grill him for about two hours on his interactions with the pharmacist that Jared has learned is on suspension without pay. Pending an investigation.

Jared didn’t even get a chance to ask Danni and Gen how their turns with Jim went because the two of them took off directly after talking to Jim. So Jared has spent the day in a hospital with angry patients and an oddly tight-lipped and paranoid staff.

He had a headache when he arrived at the restaurant, and waiting for Jensen while drinking didn’t make it any better. But now that Jensen’s here Jared feels a huge weight fall off his shoulders. Jensen, despite whatever went wrong at his work, is all smiles and comfort. He pushes Jared to forget the day, to relax, and to indulge in as much dinner as he needs to cheer up.

At the conclusion of dinner they end up going back to Jared’s place to watch TV. Except two seconds after they sit down Jared turns, cups Jensen’s face, and pulls him into a kiss.

Jensen’s mouth is warm, _very_ warm, with dry lips that are gentle and soft. There’s no hint of chap, which makes Jared feel bad because he knows he chews his own enough to have dry skin, and Jensen is all softness and sweetness in response to Jared’s aggression.

They end up horizontal on the couch, Jensen’s back pressed against the cushions and Jared leaning in, holding himself up on either side as he kisses Jensen slow and deep. As he works his tongue in between those perfect pink lips he tastes Jensen’s mouth properly. Sweet and bitter, the coffee and chocolate dessert they had at the restaurant that had fit them both so well.

Their legs are tangled down at the ankles, and when Jared shifts just slightly to tilt his face and kiss a little deeper Jensen’s calves go taut and iron hard against Jared’s. It makes Jared have to lower himself a bit, blanketing Jensen more firmly so that he can feel how toned the man’s thighs are. This ends up pressing Jared’s aching, denim-clad erection against Jensen’s.

Jared is having trouble remembering anything else, anything he wanted to do or say before this happened, because Jensen is so there and real. Heat comes off of him in waves and Jared loves it. Can only imagine how hot Jensen is under his clothes, how much Jared will sweat and pant at the furnace-like heat of Jensen’s-

It finally occurs to Jared that the knocking he’s hearing is his entry door and not his heart. He lifts his head and Jensen chases his mouth and ends up brushing his kiss swollen lips against Jared’s chin.

“Hold on. Wait.”

Jared gets up, crosses the room, and thinks to readjust himself at the last second before opening the door. A good choice, it turns out, because his visitor is a police officer. Jared clears his throat and tries to fix his hair.

“Evening officer. How can I help you tonight?”

The cop’s eyes skim past Jared to what must be Jensen sitting up on the couch, and then they move back to settle on Jared with something that isn’t quite disgust but is fairly close.

“Are you Jared Padalecki?”

A cold chill goes down Jared’s spine. Something is wrong. Someone was hurt and the police have come to tell Jared. Who could it be? If it was one of his siblings his parents would have called him, and if it was his parents one of his siblings would have called him.

“Yes sir. What’s going on?”

“If you’ll come with me Mr. Padalecki? We have some questions we want to ask you down at the station.”

Jared can’t understand what language the man is speaking in.

“No. What? Wait, who’s hurt?”

The cop looks past him again, and Jared feels Jensen’s presence nearby.

“Mr. Padalecki. You can come with me of your own volition, or I can arrest you and bring you in for questioning. Either way I need you to collect your things and join me in my car.”

Jared can see now that there’s another officer in the hall, just a few steps behind the one talking to him. He can see that they don’t look pitying or sympathetic, but guarded and disgusted.

“Jared.” Jensen’s hand lands on his shoulder. “Go ahead. I’ll call around and get a lawyer for you. Ok?”

“I don’t need a lawyer. I didn’t do anything.”

He gets his shoes on, and then follows the cop out to the cruiser.

They make him ride in the back, the cage between the two seats looking thicker than it has any right to be.

 

\-----

 

“You want me to what?”

Jensen realizes too late that he is chewing on a hangnail. He stops and lowers his hand. That’s not devil behavior.

“Play lawyer. Get him out.”

Sariel looks at him in that disrespectful and condescending way, and Jensen wants to start destroying things. He is _tired_ of being questioned by his inferiors.

“But the point is-“

“The point is to take things from him. This will work. He doesn’t have to be in prison for it to work. This will work.”

“Aye aye captain.”

Jensen tries to keep his face smooth and impassive. Crediting her with upsetting him will only spur her on to do more.

While Sariel heads topside to go to Jared’s defense Jensen travels to a seedier part of town.

The dealer is asleep, and Jensen nudges him once and waits for the man to wake up and look at him.

Nothing here is new. Jensen has dealt with scum like this for a long time now, and he knows exactly which buttons to push.

“What the-who the fuck are you?”

Jensen sits next to the mattress the dealer is sleeping on, trying not to think of what could be caked on the floor and transferring into his slacks.

“I don’t understand why you’re still in this flophouse when that punkass bitch on Third Street owes you so much money. Think of what you could do with that sort of cash. You could take Trejo up on his offer to buy all the blow, and then cut it and sell it back at fucking double man. But instead you’re sleeping in some John’s come with a rag for a blanket and an empty stomach.”

The dealer is staring at him, head nodding unconsciously and pupils dilating.

“So get up.” Jensen puts the gun down on the mattress with distaste, keeping his fingers clear of the surface. “Be the king. Take what’s yours.”

And the dealer nods, eyes huge, and does.

 

\-----

 

“Tell it to me again.”

Detective Kane leans back in his chair, arm slung over the back of it and legs spread. He looks casual, comfortable, but Jared has sweat through his shirt and still doesn’t understand what’s going on.

When he asked what he was being charged with he was told nothing, that he was simply there to be questioned. When he asked if he could leave he was told that he was being held for questioning, and that they were allowed to keep him there for a set amount of time unless he decided to obstruct justice at which point they would hold him for even longer.

His conviction that he doesn’t need a lawyer has died. Instead Jared jiggles his leg and wonders how long it’ll take for Jensen’s lawyer to get here.

“I don’t understand what you want to know here. You’re asking me about the guy I got into a fight with right? I don’t know him. He was just some jerk who got aggressive. I never met him before.”

“But he said your name.” Detective Kane isn’t accusatory. That’s the worst part. He sounds friendly, factual, and it makes Jared confused as to how he should respond.

“Yeah. He said my name, and that’s why I followed him.”

“Well had you never met before, or did he know your name?”

“Both.”

Detective Kane smiles, teeth bright white in the tan of his face.

“That don’t make much sense Jared. You see that right?”

Jared shrugs. Still not sure what he’s done wrong but certain that it’s related to that night. Maybe the guy pressed charges? That would make sense. If so Jared wonders if he can press them right back. Pressure the guy into dropping them. A criminal record wouldn’t look good for the hospital even if it was just assault.

“I said it was weird. But I was drunk and I just sort of waved it off.”

“Alright. What made you push him?”

Jared stops to think about that. The guy said something. But Jared can’t remember what it was.

“I don’t- he grabbed me first.”

“But he must have said something. He called you over to talk to you and then just grabbed you? Why would he do that?”

“I don’t know man. I told you that I don’t know. It’s not a thing that makes sense it’s just…what it is.”

Kane tilts his head, his smile turning a little predatory, and then the door bursts open and a tiny woman in a sharp suit comes in.

“That’ll be enough of that. Detective Kane, I need a few minutes with my client.”

Jared doesn’t miss the way the detective looks at him, as if this is proof of everything he believed, but he doesn’t argue with the lawyer. He gets up and leaves, nodding his head at Jared before closing the door behind him.

The lawyer sits beside him and crosses her legs, letting the pencil skirt ride up higher than Jared would think a lawyer would want. There’s something about her that makes Jared both insanely nervous and perfectly at ease.

He blames the setting.

“You’re not going to say anything else. I’m going to get you released and Jensen is going to take you home. Do you understand?”

Jared really wants to say yes.

“No. I don’t understand anything. I don’t understand why I’m here, or what they want, or how you can explain to them I didn’t do anything better than I can.”

“I say it in Latin. Look kiddo, all you need to know is that I’m getting you out of here. I’ll work on the charges later. In the meantime you’ll keep your nose clean and your head up. Don’t talk about it with anyone, because you never know who could get subpoenaed. Just refuse to comment and move onward.”

“Don’t they have to tell me what they’re charging me with?”

“Not if they’re just holding you for questioning. That means they have to let you go after twenty-four hours unless they’re looking at you for a serious crime like murder. Now, to be fair, you’ve only been here seven hours, but we’re gonna make it the end of this nonsense. They don’t have anything and if they did they would have charged you by now.”

“They keep asking about that guy. Is it an assault charge? Did he charge me with assault? Because he got handsy too so I don’t think-“

She holds a hand up and the door opens. Detective Kane eyes them both before settling his gaze on Jared.

“You’re free to go. If we have more questions we’ll bring you back in.”

Jared gets up slowly, not sure if this is a trap. If they’re allowed to do that. When no one tries to stop him and the lawyer simply gets up to follow Jared he feels a weight lift off of his shoulders.

Except when he steps out of the holding room he sees Gen walking his way with another officer behind her. Jared is pretty sure that his blood pressure skyrockets out of the stratosphere.

“Gen? Gen? Did they bring you in for questioning too?”

His friend looks surprised, and then guilty. A hand lands on Jared’s elbow and he turns to see the lawyer looking at him with pity.

“Let’s go Jared.”

But he can’t go. He can’t go if Gen is here paying for his dumbass mistake.

“No. It’s not her fault I got into a fight. I shouldn’t leave if she’s still here. Gen? Did they tell you-“

“That’s enough Mr. Padalecki.” Detective Kane smiles at Jared, friendly and easy again, before he steps over to Gen and takes her arm gently. “If you’ll come with me Ms. Cortese we have the stenographer in the third room.”

Gen looks guiltier, and her eyes never meet Jared’s as she slinks past him in the hallway and enters the room beyond the one he was in.

“But. Gen?”

She’s gone, door closed, but Jared still thinks that maybe, just maybe, if he asks the right question he’ll understand what’s happening.

The lawyer pulls him gently, one hand on his elbow and the other moving through the air to punctuate what she’s saying.

“Like I told you Jared. Don’t talk to anyone about it. You don’t know who’s talking to the cops. Until we know what is going on and why there’s no way to know what you’re defending yourself against. Assume it’s everything.”

“What about Jensen?”

The lawyer looks up at that, her face tilting and her hair falling into her eyes. She pushes it back and then smiles.

“Jensen is probably a safe bet.”

“I’ve known Gen my entire life. How could Jensen be a safer bet than her?”

They’re almost to the big doors that lead out into the maze of desks that Jared was led through in the beginning. That means a long walk past suspicious looking officers before he can collect the things they took from him at the security desk and run for home.

“Because your friend Gen is an upstanding citizen. Jensen wouldn’t help a cop if they paid him. And knowing what they make they couldn’t even try. So put your mind at ease.”

Jared processes that as the doors swing open and the sound of the busy desk area washes over them.

“You’re telling me I can trust Jensen because he’s shady?”

The lawyer smiles, something small and secret that makes Jared a little jealous.

“That is exactly what I’m telling you.”

 

\----

 

Jared hasn’t spoken for the entire ride home. Jensen walks him to the door and expects that Jared will say goodnight to him like always and he will be sent home unsatisfied and distracted.

Instead when Jensen goes to step away Jared clings to his hand and tugs on it. Jensen allows himself to be pulled, led into the living area of Jared’s apartment and down the hall. Jared brings him into his bedroom and settles Jensen down on the bed before stepping back and looking around the room like he’s never seen it before.

Or maybe just never pictured Jensen in it.

Jensen clears his throat, ready to say something comforting, but Jared holds up a hand.

“Can I ask you something? Personal?”

Oh shit.

“Yes, of course. Whatever you want. I’m an open book.”

Oh shit oh shit oh shit.

“How did you meet that lawyer?”

Jensen bursts into laughter, crumpling in the middle with his forehead close to brushing his knees as he literally guffaws.

_Jared_ is _jealous_.

“I got into a lot of trouble when I started my new job. She dug me out of it. Why?”

“She’s…odd.”

Jared doesn’t know the half of it. Sariel isn’t anything like the other fallen angels. She’s way more human, more useful, and Jensen sometimes wonders if there’s a possibility that she’s the greatest trick in Hell. Although he’s willing to use her until it blows up in his face.

“Yeah, but she’s useful. And very efficient. Don’t worry about it Jared. She’ll make sure that everything comes out alright for you.”

And Jensen believes that. He honestly knows that if there’s any red tape in making sure that Jared gets everything back after the bet is over than Sariel will do Jensen one last favor as he’s skipping his way through the gates for the last time and handle the bureaucracy of the whole thing.

Probably more to piss God off than to help Jensen, but he’s willing to take what he can get. Intention matters way less than action Jensen has found.

“She seems fond of you.”

“Jared. She’s my lawyer. And now your lawyer. She’s nothing else to me. Certainly not a…prospective love interest. Or a date. Or whatever. So please, just let her help you.”

He watches those pink lips move, face flitting through bare emotions that Jensen can follow swiftly and easily, before Jared accepts Jensen’s comments and moves forward. He takes a seat next to Jensen on the big bed and rubs his face.

“What am I going to do? If this whole thing is serious what am I going to do? A charge could be the end of my career. The end of a lot of things. My momma is gonna cry her eyes out.”

Jensen doesn’t know what it’s like to have a “momma” that would care one way or another if her son was in trouble like that. He doesn’t understand it first person, but he can sympathize that it upsets Jared pretty heavily.

He lays a hand on Jared’s shoulder and rubs gently.

“It’ll be ok Jared. Even if it’s hard in the middle the end is happy for you. I can tell.”

Jared lifts an eyebrow, tilts his head, and Jensen thinks that maybe God isn’t watching right at this moment. And even if he is it’s not like he made any rules about this at all.

“How? How can you tell?”

“Because you’re made for happy endings.” He rubs his thumb over the soft lower lip, staring at the way the peach of his skin blends with the soft pink of Jared’s lips. Jensen realizes he is not lying in that moment. Jared is a good guy. Jared deserves a happy ending.

Jensen kinda wishes he could give it to him.

And then, with no warning, Jared’s long fingers are tangled in Jensen’s hair and Jared is eating at his mouth like a man starving. Lips moving firm and desperate against Jensen’s, and head tilted just right so that the tip of Jared’s nose brushes against Jensen’s cheek. It’s sweet, it’s sad, and it’s just what Jensen thought he wanted.

Jared pushes and Jensen goes, falling back onto the bed, blanketed by the larger man as Jared’s lips keep constant contact. Jared is all long and lean muscle, legs tightly corded against Jensen’s slack ones, and biceps taut on either side of Jensen, pinning him into the kiss.

He lets it happen, lets Jared keep control of the situation and the pace, because that’s what Jared wants. And Jensen wants to give him that. He’s going to take so much away from this man, why not let this be a gift? A freebie on the house.

Which, Jensen knows as the prince of the subject, is a hideous lie.

He wants it too.

Jared makes a sound in the back of his throat, something like a growl, and Jensen feels his cock surge upward against the constricting material of his pants. He thrusts upwards, bringing their hips together, and surges for the friction of Jared’s hard cock against his.

But doesn’t find it.

Jared isn’t hard.

Jensen breaks the kiss, sucking in air greedily as he studies Jared’s face.

Tears. Jared is crying.

Jensen then pushes himself, flipping Jared off of him and onto the mattress, and before Jared can take it as a sign of rejection Jensen rolls onto his side and pulls Jared in. The movements are foreign to him. Even before he became the devil Jensen never did this.

But he does now. He holds Jared close, one hand rubbing that broad and muscular back and the other petting Jared’s soft hair.

“It’s ok. It’s ok Jay. I’m sorry.”

And in that moment? He really is.

 

\----

 

Jared wakes up several hours later and expects to be alone, but Jensen is still there. Jared’s face feels swollen and hot, and his head hurts from all the crying. He hasn’t fallen asleep crying since he was a little boy and he lost his first pet. Now he’s repeated the experience the first time he took his boyfriend to bed.

It’s shameful, but Jensen didn’t seem to mind much. Instead of running for the hills, which is what Jared expected, Jensen had stayed right by his side comforting him and talking him down until Jared could finally breathe normally and fall asleep. And now Jensen is right there beside him, fully dressed and looking for all the world like he’s just stepped off a runway despite what he’s been doing.

His cheekbones should be illegal.

Jared swallows down the urge to do something creepy like stroke them, and gets up carefully to slip into the bathroom and wash his face. When the swelling has gone down a bit and he feels more human he rejoins Jensen in the bed.

And sure enough, like a moment in a romance novel, Jensen reaches for him in his sleep and pulls Jared close. The guy is deceptively strong, and Jared lets him. Lets himself be enveloped and held, and enjoys the closeness.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow Jared will figure out why his best friend in the whole world looked at him like a stranger. Tomorrow Jared will plan out a strategy for dealing with the police. He’ll call the weird lady lawyer and find out what the charges are and how he goes about getting them dismissed.

Tomorrow.

Today he will lay here and be held. He’ll pretend that this is all the world has to offer him, because in this moment it’s all that he wants.

[Part One](http://dimeliora.livejournal.com/58250.html)   
[Part Three](http://dimeliora.livejournal.com/58867.html)   



	3. The Luck of Job Part 3

  
I've a friend who lies and steals and cheats.  
Always taking more than he can eat.  
He says "To get what I want, I would probably kill.  
If I don't take it, somebody else will."   
And the high road's steady and steep,  
And the low road's easy and deep.  
Guess I'll follow, follow, follow my feet.   


  
Jensen lies comfortably on Jared’s bed, the dogs curled up at his feet and the apartment completely silent. Jared left for work hours ago, and that means Jensen is surrounded by his things and has no supervision.

Briefly he considers looking through them, but he doesn’t really need the additional insight.

Which is how Jensen, the devil, ends up sitting on the floor of Jared’s closet with a big box open in front of him. Sariel appears moments later and the dogs begin to bark. She vanishes them from the room with ease.

“Oh great and powerful dark lord. I have come to spy you reading diaries.”

“I am not reading a diary.”

Jensen closes the book and pushes the box so it’s accessible to both of them. He watches the fallen angel sit on the floor beside him and start to dig. The first thing she pulls out is a vacation bible school trophy for basketball. Her finger skims the metal plate before she puts it down on the floor.

“Why are you doing this?”

He reaches into the box and pulls out a stack of ribbons from other summers, all given to him by the same church.

“Because I am getting to know him better so that I can manipulate him better.”

Sariel reaches into the box and plucks out a dreamcatcher. Her lips pull into a tight line.

“Is that so?” Her voice is entirely disbelieving and Jensen doesn’t appreciate it.

“Yes. That is so. Are you here to help me or bother me?”

She plucks up a small box and opens it, scores of greeting cards falling out onto her lap and the floor.

“This is just gross. How does this help you? It’s all from his childhood. You’re the devil. You can tell what will make a man sin by looking at him.”

And that’s true. Jensen knows that Jared is big on sugar, so indulgence is an issue for him. But indulging in candy isn’t exactly the sort of thing that would lead someone away from God. He knows that Jared is very proud, but that pride is almost entirely based on his family and friends. Which makes it unusable.

Jared is a sinfully good kisser.

“That’s the problem. He’s too good. There _isn’t_ anything that will lead him away from God. So what am I supposed to do?”

Sariel is opening cards, glancing inside of them before slamming them shut and dropping them back on the floor. She looks both wounded and offended, and Jensen has to read through them after to find out why. They’re all from Jared’s parents and friends, and each one is slightly happier and more loving than the last.

Jensen grew up in an orphanage, and he blew town as soon as he was old enough to try to make his fortune. He never stopped long enough to make friends and he certainly never experienced a family. This is all foreign to him, and he finds his fingers tracing letters in long and sweet sentences as if they’re unreadable hieroglyphics.

“He certainly inspires a lot of love and devotion.”  There’s a scowl when she says it.

“Not helpful. True, but not helpful.”

Jensen finds tags for a dog, and he brushes the cool metal with his thumb and wonders if there will be more in the box. If Jared has mourned every house pet like a member of his family.

Of course he has.

“Maybe mortality. I mean look at all of this. It’s a memory graveyard. I bet he’s lost pets and grandparents and stuff. Some of them had to go in an untimely manner. So you could go at it in a ‘God let your loved ones die and doesn’t care about you’ way?”

_Where were you when God laid the foundations of the earth?_

Jensen shudders at the memory and sees Sariel staring at him oddly. He clears his throat and looks back down at the collection in front of him.

“Maybe, but it doesn’t seem like enough. I feel like at his age he’s adjusted to the realities of life and death. I need more.”

She holds up a hand drawn picture of a long haired boy flying with angels, her mouth stretched into a line so thin her lips are almost gone and her eyes have turned a stormy grey.

“What is this shit and who is Megan?”

Jensen snatches the picture from her hands and smoothes it out. The colors are very bright, and it’s obviously Jared being lifted up in the middle.

“That’s his little sister. She’s got a really good understanding of lines.”

A snort pulls his eyes away from the picture.

“You’ve met angels Jensen, tell me how many of them smile and spend time with human boys?”

“You’re missing the point. The point is that she loves her brother and thinks that angels would be right at home hanging out with him. It’s a compliment from her, since they’re so pro-angel in his religion.”

“I am _aware_ how their religion works I’m just trying to share some humor with you so you get that stupid, doofy look off your face and act like the devil you are.”

And that makes Jensen stop. His hands are still holding the angel picture, and he looks down at it for a long time, aware that he is crossing some line that cannot be uncrossed. And that Sariel _cannot_ know that.

“I think I need to meet the sister.”

Sariel takes a deep breath before putting her hand over the picture and making sure she has Jensen’s gaze.

“Jensen, lord, is that a wise and _necessary_ move?”

“If I’m going to get his family to disown him? Yes it certainly is.”

He watches the fallen angel’s mouth curl into a hideous smile.

 

\----

 

“But Danni, I’m just asking why Gen was there? I don’t- you have to believe me. I don’t know what’s going on. They didn’t charge me with anything, they wouldn’t explain why I was there, and their questioning didn’t make any sense. IS it an assault charge? Can you at least tell me that?”

Jared got to work this afternoon to find out that Gen had taken the day off. That news was followed by him having to chase Danni around all day long only to finally corner her alone in a supply closet on the third floor.

“I can’t talk to you about this Jared. Ok? I just can’t. Can you please move?”

There’s something seriously wrong. Danni won’t even look at him fully, and she’s never done that before. Jared has known her since they were little kids. He can’t figure out why she would be acting this way.

“No. I’m not moving until you give me some kind of explanation. Something is going on and Gen is involved. Is she in trouble? She couldn’t be in trouble. She wasn’t involved in the fight at all.”

Danni frowns at that, and her hands nervously grip the tongue depressors she’s grabbed off the shelf.

“Jared, the police told us not to talk to you.”

“But _why_?”

Finally Danni cracks, eyes landing on his and her hands lifting up to punctuate her words.

“Because they’re looking into whether or not you did something. And whatever it is it’s not the goddamn fight Jared. I don’t know ok? Gen doesn’t know. They asked her all sorts of questions and none of them made any sense. When she asked why they just brushed her off. She was _terrified_ and they kept her there for hours asking question after question. Now she’s at home, sick over whether or not she made things worse for you because she didn’t know how to defend you. Which makes me _furious_ with them _and_ you because Gen doesn’t need that sort of stress. So maybe you should try talking to the cops about this because Gen and I are in the dark and I don’t really feel like talking to you right now.”

Jared feels his stomach drop down to his knees, and all the assertiveness he donned stepping in here flees. His shoulders slump and he steps out of Danni’s path so she can leave.

“Sorry. Please tell Gen that too. I’ll try to get it cleared up so that they don’t bug you guys anymore.”

A hand lands on his shoulder and Jared looks up to see Danni staring at him with sympathy.

“I’ll tell her. She’s not mad at you. I shouldn’t be either Jared. I’m sure whatever is going on the cops are just confused. I just got so upset seeing her so stressed out.”

Jared pulls Danni into a tight hug, lifting her off the ground a little bit in the process.

“No. Don’t apologize. I made a mess somehow and I’ll fix it. Even if it’s confusion on their part she shouldn’t have gotten dragged into it.”

Danni makes a little noise, Jared is pretty sure it’s a sob, and she hugs him back tighter.

Somehow, someway, Jared has to get this fixed before it ruins his friendships and hurts his friends any deeper.

\---

Jensen jumps when the cell phone rings and glares when Sariel laughs at him silently. It’s Jared.

“Hello?”

_“I didn’t get the number for that lawyer. I need her. Do you think you can text it to me?”_

Jensen looks over at Sariel.

“Sure. I can do that. Did something happen?”

_“Danni says they questioned Gen last night but that Gen doesn’t know why. I don’t want them bothering my friends anymore. I need to get this cleared up.”_

It is through extreme willpower that Jensen doesn’t curse.

“Yeah. I’ll send it right over. Do you want to do dinner together?”

_“I really, really do. I’ll be home late though. Is that ok?”_

“Yeah. It’ll give me time to finish up work stuff. See you then. I’ll cook.”

Jared makes a sound that makes Jensen hard before he hangs up.

Of course, seconds after he hangs up Jensen remembers that this call was terrible news.

“His friends haven’t abandoned him.”

Her head tilts in that way that is adorable on Jared, and horribly annoying on her.

“You don’t say.”

“Shut up.”

“Why would they lord? You’re not finished yet.”

“Shut up.”

“Unless you didn’t think it would have to go any further.”

“I said shut up.”

“Or you just didn’t _want_ it to.”

“Sariel. Shut. Up.”

She lifts one eyebrow and then stands.

“If you’ll excuse me, I have a client that’s very grateful for my help.”

“He’s not-“

But she’s gone, and Jensen is left alone with the realization that he has to pull the trigger on the next step. He texts Jared the phone number, and then makes the call.

\---

 

Jared’s shift is over and he’s in the locker room changing clothes when he hears a throat clear behind him. Jared looks over his shoulder to see the Dean of Medicine, standing with two security guards Jared knows well. Tom looks ashamed and Mike seems uncomfortable. Jared immediately feels his pulse start to race.

“Dean Beaver?”

Usually Jared calls him Jim, or boss Jim, but this doesn’t feel like a moment to be familiar. Jim Beaver is a very stern boss, but he’s an excellent doctor and he’s always fair. Jared has never had issues with him before.

He’s never seen the man look at him this way.

“Jared. I need you to clean out your locker. I have a box if you need it.”

And sure enough he does. Jared missed it staring at his face. He takes a deep breath and settles his shaking hands on his thighs.

“What’s going on?”

Mike shifts and looks up at the ceiling. Tom looks down to the floor.

“I’ve been informed that you’re part of an ongoing investigation with the police. Due to the nature of their suspicions I have to suspend you pending judgment.”

Jared is afraid he’s not breathing.

“There aren’t any charges though. There’s nothing. They brought me in last night, but they wouldn’t even tell me what they thought I did. Ji-Dean Beaver. Please. Did they tell you? Because all I did was get into some stupid bar fight. I don’t see why this is happening.”

The Dean doesn’t look sympathetic. His lips thin and he shakes his head.

“I’m not at liberty to discuss that. I just need you to pack your things and leave. Peacefully. You’re not out of a job Jared we just can’t have you here until you’re cleared.”

And at least there’s that. At least he’s talking like he expects Jared to be cleared of the charges. It’s a tiny ray of hope in a very dark spot.

Jared packs everything into the box and then is taken on the most humiliating march of his entire life. He spends the entire walk trying not to make eye contact and praying that God will sort this out soon, because he doesn’t know how many more hits he can take before he can’t stand upright.

The walk is long and horrible. Jared has never been so glad to step into the parking garage. Tom opens the door for him and Mike stands back and watches Jared get in and start up his car until he loses sight of them.

Jared makes it one block before he has to stop the car, lean his head against the steering wheel, and cry.

Why is this happening to him?

 

\---

By the time he can wipe his face and sit upright it’s late, and Jared doubts that Jensen will still be waiting for him. He’s wrong.

His boyfriend is standing in the kitchen with a smile on his face that wavers when he sees Jared.

“What’s wrong Jay?”

And it pours out of Jared like poison, every last detail of it. By the time he’s done he’s on the verge of tears again, and Jensen steps forward and wraps two strong arms around him.

“I have to stop doing this. Breaking down on you. This is not romantic or sexy.”

Jensen laughs, hand rubbing up and down Jared’s back.

“You don’t have to be sexy or romantic to keep me around. Break down as much as you want.”

“What do I have to be?”

He sounds so lost. Even to himself he sounds lost.

“You.”

Jared feels a surge of want and affection so overwhelming he can’t stand it. He presses his face into Jensen’s neck and takes a deep breath of aftershave and what smells like the faintest trace of matches. It’s a strange scent, oddly comforting and familiar, and Jared clings to it. Clings to Jensen. He needs the solidity.

“I made food. Burgers and home fries. The home fries might reheat ok, but the burgers will be amazing. You want to grab a seat in front of the TV and I’ll load you up a plate and we’ll watch something good? Lots of explosions and mindlessness.”

He nods, and Jensen gently leads him over and sits him down before disappearing. The microwave runs and beeps, runs and beeps, and then Jensen is plopping a huge plate of food in front of him and running back for condiments and beer.

They sit together in companionable silence, shoulders touching lightly and thighs rubbing as they eat Indian style on the floor. By the time the movie is over the day has taken its toll on Jared, and he finds himself nodding off on Jensen’s shoulder.

Jensen responds by pulling Jared up onto the couch, and he falls asleep with his head in Jensen’s lap and his feet covered in furry dog.

It’s comforting.

 

\---

 

Jensen parts ways with Jared the next morning. Jared tells him he wants to meet Sariel alone, and that he’ll call Jensen when he has some answers. He’s too nervous to find out if she’s gone so far as to rent a cover office or how she’ll play off Jared’s nervousness. She is, after all, a fallen angel. There’s a possibility she’ll do the job that Jensen is too weak to do himself.

In the meantime he makes his way over to Asia to work on new souls. It’s a vibrant breeding ground for greed and pride, and Jensen gets his second best work done there. The sheer amounts of money pouring through some of the companies there is frightening and the people collecting it are Jensen’s type.

California and New York may be cultivating the highest percentages of super rich residents in the Western world, but China and Japan are no slouches when it comes to GDP. Except when Jensen steps out into Tokyo he’s met instantly by a tiny old fish monger with a pair of eyes he knows all too well.

“Fish? Fresh fish?”

Jensen feels his blood pressure rise, and his left hand clenches and unclenches.

“Go away. I have a job to do.”

“You certainly do. Would you like some fresh Bass?”

“Bass aren’t native here.”

Jensen starts walking, too tired and tense to play this game. He hopes that God will take the hint, but of course he doesn’t.

“No, but they’re found very heavily in Texas. Maybe you should go get some.”

“Maybe you should fuck off and let me do my job.”

God lifts one eyebrow, and his wrinkled old hand grabs Jensen’s wrist and pulls sharp and short so that Jensen is forced to spin around and look at him. The crowd ignores them, parting as it’s natural to avoid the two of them entirely, and Jensen wonders why God even bothered with the disguise.

“If you were doing your job I wouldn’t be here lecturing you. By now you should have won this bet Jensen, but you’re hesitating. Stringing it along and making it easier to digest. Why?”

“Because it doesn’t need to be a huge clobbering. Because I can do it slow and subtle and still get to the finish line. And because maybe, just maybe, I think this whole thing is really arbitrary and stupid and I’m not really seeing the point enough to push for it.”

“The point is your freedom. Do you not want that anymore? Changed your mind about the level of power that being Devil gives you?”

There’s something ominous in God’s tone, and it makes Jensen’s flesh crawl. He thinks of all the time he was told that God would strike someone down with lightning. He’s sure it can’t kill him, but it would _hurt_ like a bitch.

“No. I just think the whole thing is juvenile. Can’t you pick a better bet? Something that doesn’t include arbitrarily squashing a man?”

God squeezes Jensen’s wrist before letting go.

“Do you want me to change the terms? I can finish your half of this if you’d like and you can just sit back and twist him when the time comes. Would that be less _arbitrary_ to you?”

And that’s when Jensen sees how hideously fucked he is in this whole situation. When Sariel first told him about this whole thing the fact that he could just hold out until God would take all the blame for it seemed like a gift. How much easier could it get than having God do all the work?

But now Jensen knows Jared. Knows Jared very personally. And the idea of God smashing his way through Jared’s life like a tornado in a trailer park is frightening. At least Jensen’s approach is giving Jared time to control his pain.

“No. I can finish it. It’s already started heading towards the finish.”

God steps back from him, a smile spreading on the apple cheeked face he has taken on.

“Don’t forget Jensen, Job was left with nothing. See that it gets finished before I step in.”

And then God is gone, and Jensen is left with a serious question. One that he hasn’t really asked himself since this whole thing began. Or that he asked but didn’t bother trying to really answer.

_Why_ is this so important to God that he would intervene not once but twice to make sure it finished? There are no more gospels being written. No more mass lessons. He had put a stop to that when he saw that the humans would just keep interpreting them however they wanted to make them fit their ideals.

The only person learning the lesson was Jared.

So why was God pushing so hard?

 

\-----

 

Ms. Testament, which Jared felt was a pretty heavy name for a lawyer but kept to himself, rested her chin on top her fist and studied Jared for a little bit before she answered his question.

“Three felony controlled substance charges. And possibly a wrongful death suit if they can push it far enough.”

Jared wants to be shocked. He wants to stand up and shout that the whole thing is ridiculous. That he couldn’t possibly be charged with such a crime. A rant about his innocence worthy of a movie scene. That’s what Jared wants

Instead a hysterical laugh bubbles up from somewhere deep inside him and breaks out of his mouth, crashing over the room and not putting his lawyer off even a little bit.

Her smile remains controlled and polished.

When Jared can breathe again he realizes he’s crying. He can’t figure out why.

“That’s ridiculous. What does that even mean? I don’t understand.”

“You’re being charged with removing drugs from the pharmacy in your hospital and selling them on the street. They have security footage of you entering the pharmacy, they have logs of missing drugs, and they caught a street dealer today in the middle of a deal gone bad who just gave up your name about an hour ago. I imagine they’re getting a judge to sign an arrest warrant as we speak.”

“What street dealer? I don’t know any dealers. The closest I’ve come to a dealer is high school parties where they were smoking pot. I get drug tested regularly to work at the hospital. And I’ve never gone in the pharmacy. How could they have footage?”

Her hand leaves her chin, and she leans over the big wooden desk to really look at him. Jared is pinned by the grey gaze.

“Do you remember an incident at a bar a while back? A young man that you argued with?”

Jared does. Of course he does.

“Yeah. I remember.”

“That would be the dealer in question. One Daniel Alvarado. He was caught today taking shots at another player named Trejo. The cops had been watching him for a while and they were at the bar that night. Apparently the officer on scene heard him tell you he was owed a new shipment, and they started investigating you too.”

And suddenly Jared remembers that. Remembers it but also remembers not understanding it at the time.

“Ms. Testament you have to believe me. That’s crazy. I would never do that. I would never sell drugs to a street dealer. I don’t know what’s happening but you have to get my name cleared. I’m on suspension pending this investigation. If I get arrested they may just fire me outright.”

“Jared.” Her voice is sympathetic, comforting, but she doesn’t exactly look the way she sounds. “If you get arrested then your job is the least of your fears. Everything they’re talking about charging you with is a felony. You’ll be in prison forever. And, no offense kid, but you don’t look like the type that will handle prison well.”

And she’s right. He wouldn’t.

“What do we do?”

“First, we wait for them to officially charge you. Which they’ll be doing. Then we get you out on bail, and you stay a good citizen while I work on getting you cleared. Do you think you can do that? Be patient and have faith?”

There’s a weird extra up tilt to the last word that Jared doesn’t get, but he nods enthusiastically anyway.

“Good. Go home. Relax. Wait for them to show up and then cooperate as much as you can. Ok?”

“Ok.”

 

\-----

Jensen waits for Jared to leave before he steps out of the shadows. Sariel doesn’t even look his way at first, pulling a cigar out of the desk and lighting up.

“This guy will be dead in a year if he keeps eating the way he does and smoking these. How can I help you dark lord?”

He sits on the desk in front of her and waits for her to look at him. To break. It comes slowly but surely.

“Jensen?” Nervous. Off balance. Good.

“I need you to clear something up for me.”

She flips her hair back over her shoulder, an empty sign of ease that Jensen sees right through.

“I thought you were in Japan going after that mogul? Why are you here?”

“Because God came after me and sent me back here. Offered to step in and everything. Which, again, leads me to needing you to clear something up. Why is this so important to him?”

She looks past him at the wall, puffing softly before tapping ash on the top of what is probably a _very_ expensive desk.

“He wants to teach a lesson. Why is anything important to God?”

“Teach a lesson to who?”

“I think that’s whom lo-“

Jensen slams his hand down on the desk and Sariel jumps, eyes going wide and then narrow.

“Stop. Playing. With. Me.”

The fallen angel stands then, puts the cigar out on the desktop, and reaches out to straighten Jensen’s probably immaculate tie.

“To you. To Jared. I don’t know. He’s God. I don’t get to be privy to his every whim and fancy. I can learn from patterns and history. Every time he’s done this someone was learning a lesson, but it’s always changed. So if you’re asking me how and why the best I can give you is a simple I don’t know.”

Jensen isn’t sure he believes her, but his phone is ringing and it’s Jared.

“We’ll talk about this later.”

She rolls her eyes before disappearing.

 

\----

Jared answers the phone on his way home. It’s his mom.

” _Hey sugarbear. How are you?”_

Jared wants to tell her everything, but he can’t. He can’t even begin to comprehend it let alone explain it to his mom.

“It’s ok momma. How are you?”

She bursts into a long conversation about what’s going on back home. There are a fair amount of updates for Jared to listen to. On top of the pastor he’s known all of his life joining the city chili competition her gardening club has gotten into a big argument about dogwoods and his mom has fifteen minutes of opinion on that.

Jared listens dutifully, and when she finally takes a breath he blurts out what’s on his mind.

“Hey momma? Do you think I can bring Jensen to the next dinner? That guy I met?”

There’s a squeal that makes him drop his phone. When he picks it back up his dad is talking.

“ _-it if you brought your friend. This Friday sound good?_ ”

That’s three nights away. Jared isn’t sure when they’ll officially arrest him. When he’ll be getting out. He doesn’t really know how long it takes to post bail and be released. The movies aren’t to be trusted on that.

“Yeah. It sounds great. I’ll talk to him about it, but I’m sure he’ll say yes.”

Jared wraps up the conversation, and when she’s able to make whole sentences again he tells his mother he loves her and hangs up.

The police are waiting outside his front door. Jared calls Jensen.

\----

There’s an old drunk in the bunk above Jared, and he mutters and farts in his sleep. Jared can’t believe this is happening.

The bars are heavy, and they lock automatically. He doesn’t know why he thought there would be keys.

When it goes kind of quiet, minus the drunk and people in further cells making sounds Jared would rather not focus on, he looks down to see the ink that is still staining his fingers. He’s been printed, pictured, and locked up.

He is a criminal.

Jared gets down on his knees. There’s nowhere else to go.

“God, if you’re listening, I know I’m just a small part of a big universe. I know that there are a lot of things you need to do. But please. _Please_. I didn’t do anything. Please don’t let me be punished.”

“I don’t think he hears you.”

Jared looks up to see the drunk peering over the edge of the bunk. He reeks of alcohol.

“He hears me.”

“Then maybe he just doesn’t care?” The drunk rolls away from the edge of the bunk again and farts loudly releasing a little laugh with it. Jared tries to contain his disgust.

“God cares.”

“Then why are you here?” The man sounds dismissive, and Jared wonders why he’s bothering him at all. “If he cares so much why are _you_ here when bad people are out there? Doesn’t seem very fair to me.”

And it’s not. It’s not fair. But life isn’t necessarily fair.

“It’s not over yet. God has time to fix it. Make it right.”

The drunk laughs, thick and low in the back of his throat before he falls into a coughing fit.

“Don’t hold your breath kid. I think it’ll get a lot worse before it gets better.”

 

\---

 

Jensen watches Jared coming out of the security gate. The bail was set relatively low, and Jensen could more than pay for it. Jared, on the other hand, is looking run down and destroyed.

He takes Jared’s elbow when he clears the gate and Jared leans fully against him as they walk. He’s a big man, and heavy, but Jensen can easily hold him up. They walk in step to Jensen’s car and Jared collapses into the passenger seat before rubbing his face and dropping his head against the headrest.

“Home?”

Jared shakes his head.

“Do you know where the First Assembly Church is?”

Jensen controls his immediate reaction. Keeps his face schooled and calm.

“Yes. Why?”

“I need to go there. Can you take me there?”

And yes, Jensen can, but does he want to? This isn’t a good sign.

Then again. It _could_ work.

He drives there silently, one hand resting aimlessly on the gear shift until Jared links fingers with him and claims the hand as his own. It’s an automatic. Jensen can afford the sign of affection.

When they reach the church Jared jumps out with energy Jensen didn’t think he had and heads inside with long strides. Jensen isn’t sure if he’s expected to follow, but he needs to. If this goes the wrong way he could lose a lot of ground.

Jared is already up by the altar, and there’s an older man with a round and pleasant face setting things up on the holy space. Jensen glances around at the stained glass and the statuary with disgust. It’s such a waste of talent and money.

He’s not worried. He knows the posture the pastor has. Jared is getting the exact reaction Jensen hoped he would. There’s a good chance that the pastor here owes Jensen’s side a favor or two.

“-sorry Jared, but that sort of behavior isn’t something that the other parishioners would be comfortable with. I think it’s time you split ways with the church.”

“Pastor Ron. Please. I didn’t do anything. I’m just looking to- I’m just trying to make a connection with God. How can you kick me out? What about judge not?”

The pastor’s lips thin in displeasure.

“Don’t preach to me boy. If you were innocent they wouldn’t have arrested you last night. It’s in every paper. You have nowhere to hide your dirty secrets anymore. And to have your actions end in the death of a fifteen year old girl. You have no place here with good people.”

Jared’s mouth is hanging open, jaw working like he can’t figure out how to make sounds, and Jensen steps forward and takes his elbow.

“Jared. Come on. Let’s go.”

And he expects Jared to come with him, which he does, and he expects to see wetness in Jared’s eyes, which he also does.

What he doesn’t expect is how awful it makes him feel. It’s with great joy that Jensen makes a note of Pastor Ron’s predilection for girls not his wife and very close to eighteen. Sometimes on the wrong side of it.

Jensen will take care of that later too.

In the meantime he makes sure that Jared is comfortable in the passenger seat before driving the man home. Jared walks like a zombie, eyes blank and hands trembling. When he checks his phone’s voicemail there are fifteen messages. They run the gamut from people Jared knows telling him they can’t believe he would do something so awful, to regretful requests for him to keep his distance. Danneel is one of the latter.

The next to last message is someone named Jeffrey Dean Morgan, who politely asks Jared to not come into the shelter until the court case is cleared up, because it could put off a fair number of donors. He tells Jared how sorry he is, but that it’s the decision of the board of directors.

Jared cries for that one, face pressed into Jensen’s side from his seated position and fingers tangled in Jensen’s shirt. He cries like a little boy who has lost everything important to him. And Jensen pets his hair gently and doesn’t mind at all how wet and gross his shirt is getting.

And doesn’t think that Jared’s loss has only just begun if he does his job to the end.

The final message surprises Jensen. It surprises him a lot.

“ _Jared? Sugarbear? I got a call from your lawyer not to come down. That your new boyfriend was going to pay your bail. Please come see us. As soon as you get out. Bring your boyfriend honey. We need to see you and tell you how much we love you, and that we know you didn’t do any of the things they said.”_

Jensen can’t believe it. This was supposed to work. This was supposed to cut Jared off completely. How can they _not_ condemn him? The cops have Jared dead to rights. He knows that they were supposed to call Jared’s parents and ask them questions. Give them evidence. Why the hell are they calling to offer him support?

And more importantly, because there is no explanation for this, _why did Sariel call Jared’s parents_?

Jared has hope on his face. A smile blooming that is utterly beautiful and terrifying all at once. Jensen has lost his grip. Something has gone wrong.

“Jared. You can’t go there. Remember? I just bailed you out. You’re not supposed to travel anywhere.”

The hope falls. Fades. And then Jared looks up with wet lashes and puffy eyes, beautiful and soggy and ridiculous, and Jensen thinks he’s going to go mad.

“They could come here?”

And Jensen has no good response. He’ll use the time that they’re taking to travel to Jared’s to find out why Sariel did this.

“Yeah. Ok. That sounds good. I’ll just leave so-“

“Jensen? Please don’t. Don’t leave. They wanted to meet you remember? And I…I need you here.”

Again. He has nothing good. No argument.

“Of course. Call your parents. I’ll just go get cleaned up ok?”

Jared nods eagerly and then starts to dial his phone, and Jensen slips down the hall into the shared bathroom and closes the door firmly before summoning his second in command. She arrives in the bathtub, her feet slipping on the porcelain surface upon landing. Her hands slam into the wall and she glares at Jensen.

There’s not a lot of space in the tiny bathroom. Jensen uses every inch of it to slam her against the wall. His hand on her throat and his ire rising with every breath.

“What. The. Fuck.”

She blinks, big grey eyes guileless and hands hanging loosely at her sides. She’s not even trying to get him off.

“What specifically are we upset about lord?”

“You called his parents. Now they’re going to come here to support him. Why would you do that? _I had this in the bag_. They were going to abandon him. They knew everything. Then you call them and give them hope?”

Sariel’s mouth quirks a little, and her hands raise in something a bit like pacification.

“Jensen. Lord. I know that you are trying your _very best_ , but some things just won’t make sense to you. These are not his friends. These are not people that can break ties with him and keep on going. These are his parents. His _blood and name_. They don’t give up that easily. I can see with your orphan background that-“

“Shut the fuck up. Explain yourself.”

His second loses the false amusement.

“They weren’t going to drop him over charges. They weren’t going to buy them no matter how much evidence you had. That wasn’t a good plan. So I altered it. They’re going to all pile up into a car and get out on the highway to come see their poor baby and support him. Jared is going to expect that. And then, as they’re traveling, one well placed exhausted truck driver and it’s bye bye Padaleckis.”

Her smile is hideous and picture perfect.

Jensen stops breathing.

It’s exactly what he needs to finish the bet. It’s the perfect plan. It will be the last of everything taken from Jared.

“And then. And then they’re.” He can’t finish the thought. Something is wrong with his overactive brain.

“Dead. Kaput. Six feet under. And Jared is alone with _you_.”

She looks so pleased with herself. And she should be. The sheer agony of it, the blame Jared will place on himself. It’s too much to even consider. It’s the most incredibly perfect and evil thing they could possibly do.

He has to do it.

“No. I don’t like that plan. It’s too easy.”

Sariel squints at him like he’s grown a second head that’s begun spouting Enochian. And she has every right to. What Jensen’s saying makes no sense. His brain is screaming at his mouth to stop.

“Too easy, lord?”

“Too easy. I don’t like it. I think it’s a better plan to just have them turn on him like everyone else. Make sure they get here safely and then once they’re here I’ll work on them. Get it all to go the way I originally planned. I know familial ties are strong, but I’m stronger.”

Sariel licks her lips, and then she pushes Jensen’s hand away easily. She doesn’t look very pleased, but Jensen can’t worry about that right now as long as she obeys him.

“You’re telling me to let the perfect plan go to waste on the _off chance_ that you can turn his family from him? Are you out of your mind? You could end this _tonight_. You could be free tonight. FREE Jensen. That’s all you’ve ever wanted since the day you walked through the gates. Why would you risk that? Prolong your sentence?”

And he can’t answer that.

“Do what I said. I’m still in charge, and you’re still my servant. Go.”

And she does, but Jensen senses that he is losing an ally quite rapidly.

More importantly, Jensen is fairly certain he is losing his only shot at getting out of the throne.

 

\----

Jared hangs up with his mom. She, his dad, his little sister, and his brother are all coming out tonight. His sister in law is fairly pregnant and not up for the car ride, and Jared honestly believes that is the reason. This is his family. They would never turn their backs on him.

When everything is fixed then he knows that it will be hard to get over this moment with some of his friends. It’ll be hard to go back to his life. But he will. He can. He’s got a strong support system. A good foundation that won’t crumble or break under pressure.

He looks up to see Jensen walking out of the bathroom. His boyfriend looks a little pale. A little dazed.

“Jensen?”

For half a second Jared is sure that Jensen won’t respond, but he looks up and his face clicks back into life and movement after only a beat.

“Yeah?”

“You ok?”

Jensen licks his lips, smiles, and Jared is infinitely glad that he gave Jensen another chance. Because he doesn’t know how he could do this without Jensen here too.

“I’m alright. I’m fine. Do you want some dinner? You’ve gotta be hungry.”

And Jared is hungry. He didn’t think he would be riding home from the jail. Listening to everyone abandon him.

But he is. He’s got hope again. And that’s a powerful thing.

Jared thanks God for these wonderful loving people.

Across the room Jensen shudders as he starts to make mac and cheese.

[Part Two](http://dimeliora.livejournal.com/58499.html)   
[Part Four](http://dimeliora.livejournal.com/58937.html)   



	4. The Luck of Job Part 4

  
I have a friend who loves humanity,  
Braves bullets in war-torn countries.  
He traded a life of wealth to help the poor and ill.  
He says "If I don't do it, nobody will."   
And the high road's steady and steep,  
And the low road's easy and deep.  
Guess I'll follow, follow, follow my feet.  
Guess I'll follow, follow, follow my feet.   


  
Jensen cannot believe this.

He is either the unluckiest creature in the universe, or this is some bizarre punishment God is giving him for not getting the job done right away.

Either way, this is torture and Jensen is living every minute of it.

Jared’s family is…pleasant. Friendly. Affectionate.

_Nice_.

And worst of all they _love_ Jensen, because Jensen has stood by their little boy when no one else has. Each one of them is as sickeningly good as Jared himself. Jared’s mother Sherri hugs Jensen so tight the breath goes out of him, and then Gerry his father takes up the slack when she steps away and pulls Jensen into another hug he can’t escape. As soon as it’s over he sees freedom in the other side of the room.

Only to be ruined by a giant that claims to be Jared’s brother and lifts Jensen off the floor before spinning him around.

“So you’re the dashing man that’s stolen my baby brother’s heart. With a suit that sharp I guess I can almost see why. If you’re into that sort of thing.”

Jensen can’t believe this. They like him. They’re happy he’s there. They’re happy _Jared_ is there. The group of them gather together for one big group hug that Megan drags Jensen into, and then they bow their heads and Jensen is forced to stand still and quiet while the five of them pray.

_Pray_.

Jensen wonders what they would do if they knew all this hardship came about because of God’s whims.

But obviously he can’t tell them.

Instead he is left smiling and nodding when Sherri goes on and on about the blessings of the lord that they are all together and that as a unit they can overcome anything. He sits with them while they eat dinner together and chat. Eventually Jensen is drawn into the conversation, and has to start making small talk he’s already made with Jared but on a grander scale. It takes him a full seven minutes to realize that he is being interrogated.

They’re that good.

Jared spends the meal smiling, wolfing down what his mother brought even though he just ate two hot dogs and a bowl of mac and cheese four hours earlier. He occasionally kicks in and answers a question for Jensen, and Jensen is infinitely grateful. It’s too much too fast. Jensen has never done this before.

Eventually he excuses himself and steps out on the porch to stare out over the field behind Jared’s apartment complex. The grass is high and dotted with wildflowers, and in the fading daylight Jensen thinks their colors are particularly beautiful.

He misses plants sometimes. When he was young and human he would go out into fields just like this one and lay on his back staring up at the clouds. He would imagine what it would be like to control the weather, or to own the land he was laying on. He would dream of power.

Now he can control the weather. He can own any land he wishes. He can have everything he demands except the ability to stop being the devil.

Because he can’t bring himself to slaughter those annoyingly chipper people still sitting around the table talking to each other like Heaven and Hell aren’t conspiring against them.

“Jensen?”

He looks up to see Jared’s father standing back by the sliding glass door. He’s shut it, and beyond him Jensen can see that Jared is looking at his brother’s phone and making noises over what are no doubt pictures Jensen has no interest in whatsoever.

“Yes Gerry?”

He wonders if he’s supposed to call the man by his last name. He doesn’t know the rules here.

“I just wanted to say thank you. Again. For everything you’ve done for Jared.”

Jensen shrugs and then realizes that’s not a valid response.

“It’s my pleasure. He’s really special.”

And he means it.

“Yeah. He is. My children grew up very well, and they’re all good people. And it looks like they’re all choosing good people to spend their lives with.”

Jensen shudders a little on the inside, thinking of all the obvious responses to someone calling him good. He could tell Gerry about only a tiny fraction of his actions in the years he has sat on the throne and the man would jump from the balcony simply to escape the horror of it. Jensen touching Jared should be a sin.

“Thank you.”

Gerry smiles, and then he steps up to the railing.

“You’re not a member of the church? I think Jared told us that. Or he hinted at it.”

_That’s an understatement_.

“No sir. Never been my thing.”

Gerry laughs and shakes his head.

“No need for formalities son. Trust me on that one. I don’t know if I am either.”

Jensen feels his eyebrow arch up to his hairline. There’s no whiff of sin about this man.

“What do you mean?”

Gerry gestures out to the field that Jensen was just waxing nostalgic about in his own head.

“This is beautiful isn’t it?”

Jensen nods slowly. Not sure where this is going.

“It would take a real artist to make something like this. Someone with an eye for detail and beauty. Someone who wanted to create something grand. But even Hitler painted well when he wanted to.”

It takes Jensen a moment to comprehend the sentences together and garner their meaning, and then he bursts into laughter so unexpected he isn’t sure it’s him for the first few seconds. When his breath is back and he’s wiped his eyes he figures out how to respond.

“Are you comparing God to Hitler?”

“Hell no. Hitler’s body count was way lower. All I’m saying is that it’s easy to believe when you look at the design of things. It’s much harder to like the creator. Sherri has never had that problem, and I keep my opinions to myself. Some days I think God is a good thing, because he can inspire people to do great things in the name of justice and righteousness. Some days I think he’s a bully, because good people like my son end up in jail for crimes he couldn’t possibly commit.”

Jensen blinks. He _likes_ this man.

“Yes. Yes that I can agree with. Wholeheartedly.”

Gerry smiles again, fatherly and warm, and his hand lands on Jensen’s shoulder.

“People of faith like Sherri and Jared need people like us I think. Without us they would let the world run them over while they waited for God to sort things out. I’m glad my son has finally found someone to push his hand without ruining his faith.”

Jensen looks over his shoulder again at Jared. He’s laughing, dimples carved into his cheeks and eyes lit up. He’s gorgeous.

He’s not for someone like Jensen.

“Thank you Gerry. That means more than I can say.”

They stand there for a while, comfortable in their silence, and then they go in to rejoin the family.

Jensen loses at _Sorry_ fifteen times. By the end of the thirteenth he’s laughing with the rest of the Padalecki lunatics.

 

\----

 

Jared lies in bed that night next to Jensen. His boyfriend is warm, solid, and Jared thinks that he’s waited long enough. This isn’t the best time of course. His parents are in the guest room next door and his brother and sister are camped out in the living room. The walls in the apartment aren’t very thick.

That being said, Jared has had a terrible time of it. Everything has been going wrong lately and he just wants to have a moment that’s his.

And seeing Jensen with his family tonight was the last piece of the puzzle. They get along. His parents adore Jensen, his sister thinks he’s too hot to handle, and Jeff actually told Jared not to mess it up and lose Jensen.

His boyfriend fits. Into the life he used to have and the one that he has right now. Jensen is _perfect_.

“Hey. Jensen?”

Silence. Then a grunt.

“Jensen I was thinking. If we were real quiet.”

Beside him Jensen shifts, rolls onto his side so that Jared can see the glint of his eyes in the little bit of light coming in from outside. Jensen’s hand, as warm as the rest of him, lands on Jared’s face and settles there. Strong fingers trace up and down the lines of his cheek and a thumb stretches out until it finds his lips and traces them.

It’s gentle, sweet, and Jared tilts his face into it to gain more contact. He takes a deep breath and opens his mouth so that Jensen’s thumb sweeps into his mouth and touches the tip of his tongue.

“Jared. I don’t think we’re quite ready for that.”

That’s not what he was expecting. He can’t help but feel the sting of rejection.

“What do you mean not ready? You were ready the other night.”

Jensen’s hand retracts and Jared is left feeling alone despite how close the other man is to him.

“There are things about me that you don’t know. Things that…I’m not a great guy Jared. I may be the kind of guy you need right now, but I am not a great guy. Do you understand?”

Jared does, but not really. He knows that Jensen isn’t having second thoughts. He knows that Jensen doesn’t want out. If he did all he would have needed to do was leave Jared in jail.

“I understand that you’re telling me what you think I want, but that’s not how this works. I know what I want. I want you. I get that we’re not…on the same page when it comes to some things but I’m ok with that.  I like you Jensen. _You_. Isn’t that enough?”

“I’m the devil.”

There’s something vulnerable in Jensen in that moment. He looks horrified and defiant all at once, and it makes Jared feel more tender than sexy. He leads Jensen’s lip to his and kisses softly. Tries to put into action something that he still can’t quite find a way to phrase and express verbally.

And Jensen kisses back, tenderly at first, and then hungrily. He grabs Jared and pulls him and they’ve got full body contact. Jared has gotten used to Jensen carrying himself with a certain decorum. Holding onto a level of well-dressed that seems ridiculous and impressive all at once.

Not here though. In bed, dressed only in boxers and a baggy shirt, Jensen looks tousled and delicious. He’s hedonistic, raw, and Jared can’t get enough of it. He presses firmly, pushing his hardening dick against Jensen and feeling the taut muscles and smooth skin he can get his hands on. He runs them up Jensen’s side, rucking up the shirt, and gets ribs and softness.

Perfection.

Jensen has his hands hooked underneath Jared’s boxers and the grip he has on Jared’s ass is firm and tantalizing. Jensen uses this grip to move Jared, and their cocks rub through the thin material of their boxers.

Sacrifices must be made, and Jared happily sacrifices feeling Jensen up to use one hand to lift himself and the other to open their boxers just enough so he can get both of their cocks out. He moans, unable to help himself when he sees Jensen’s, and then reaches down to grip both of them together and start to move.

Hips going slow and smooth, skin rolling against skin, and Jared lifts his hand for a moment, licks it quickly, and then reaches back down to slick their cocks up a little and ease the friction. It wouldn’t do to burn. And then he’s thrusting in earnest, Jensen copying his movements underneath him so that they become almost one person in perfect sync.

It’s so good, it’s too good, and Jared can’t believe how fast it’s getting him there. He needs to know that Jensen is there too though and he can’t make himself ask. Instead he lets his arm go a little slack to lower his mouth back down to Jensen’s and start to kiss again.

Slick and swollen lips eat at each other, swallowing any noises the two of them might be making, and Jared slips his tongue into Jensen’s mouth and hits teeth and then tongue to twine with. His hips stutter for a second, falter, and Jensen picks up the slack and pushes hard against him. Jensen’s hands are everywhere. Sliding up to rub Jared’s nipples, down his sides to grip his hips, behind to stroke gentle and soft up his cheeks and along his crack.

And it’s when one finger brushes Jared’s hole that he comes, gripping the two of them together just the right side of too tight before he feels Jensen’s cock start to jerk against his own and he knows that he wasn’t too far ahead.

They come down together, slow lazy thrusts in Jared’s extremely slick fist, and then Jared has to break the kiss to breathe. He rests his forehead against Jensen’s and works through that last little bit of shuddering orgasm before he can push away and drop down onto his back.

Both of them are out of breath, chests heaving, and then Jensen covers his face with his arm and groans.

“Everything ok?”

Jensen doesn’t lift his arm when he responds.

“Your bathroom is across the hall.”

_Shit_.

 

\----

Jensen eats breakfast with the Padaleckis. He passes dishes back and forth and watches the group of them laugh together. Halfway through his second biscuit Jared’s foot slides up his ankle and presses against his calf, non-sexual contact, and Jensen presses back against it.

It’s more comfortable than Jensen is ready for. And the worst part? Last night, completely against any plan or ideal of self-control, Jensen _admitted_ to Jared that he was the devil. Granted, Jared didn’t believe him, but what the hell was that? It didn’t achieve anything.

Or at least, it didn’t achieve any goal Jensen was reaching for. He hadn’t planned to get physically intimate with Jared that way. It wasn’t necessary to make the man question his faith. So now he has that on his plate, as well as the fact that with every minute the Padaleckis are there reinforcing their love for Jared they are taking him a step further away from the despair he’s supposed to already be rolling in.

What is Jensen going to do?

His phone rings and he excuses himself and steps outside onto the porch. The morning sun is bright, cresting over the trees at the back of the little wildflower field, and Jensen squints at it as he answers the call.

“ _Lord. We have an issue. How long until you can get down here?_ ”

Jensen glances at his wristwatch out of some deeply buried human instinct. Travel time doesn’t really affect him anymore, but he does need to estimate how long it will take him to break out of this situation properly without sending up any red flags.

“Give me about fifteen minutes to thank Sherri for the breakfast and bow out gracefully and I’ll be there.”

The noise on the other end isn’t pleased, but Sariel hangs up and leaves him alone. Jensen has five sets of eyes on him the moment he steps back in through the door, and he feels bizarrely nervous.

“I have a work emergency I have to head back to. I’m sorry. It’s been lovely meeting all of you, and I’m sure-“

“If you come back tonight we’ll still be here. We’re gonna stay for a couple days and then take turns staying with Jared until this whole mess is cleared up.” Sherri is smiling big and bright when she says it. The rest of the Padalecki clan all nod their heads.

Jensen is flabbergasted.

“I would. I would like that. A lot. Jared?”

He doesn’t even know what he’s asking, but Jared is smiling big and bright.

“Yeah. We’ll see you tonight honey.”

Jeff slaps Jared’s shoulder laughing, and Megan makes a gagging face even though she’s smiling.

He’s not ashamed to admit he flees the scene. As soon as the car is around the corner Jensen ports himself down to Hell. There he finds Sariel in the throne room with Azazel. The two of them are in mid bickering when Jensen lands, and he adjusts his tie and takes a deep breath.

“What. Are. You. Two. Doing?”

Children. _Fucking children_.

“Lord.” Azazel starts with whining. “I have been trying to get a hold of you and _she_ has been blocking me. I have important business regarding the Pit that must be handled by the current Devil.”

Sariel’s mouth purses tight and displeased.

“I told you I could handle it you dimwit. The devil is very busy keeping up with his obligations regarding the Job. He still has to deal with the family.”

Azazel’s eyes widen and his mouth forms an “o” that would be comical in any other setting. Right now it’s just another annoyance.

“Why is the family still alive? All the other devils killed them first.”

Jensen steps up then, enjoying a little how they both step back in deference. He won’t have that for much longer.

“Because even if he gets them back I’m not clumsy enough to need murder to achieve my aspirations. Now, about this business you had.”

Azazel is staring at him like he’s grown two heads. Sariel opens her mouth but the other fallen angel cuts her off.

“What do you mean get them back?”

Now it’s Jensen’s turn to stare, and he can see out of the corner of his eye that Sariel is turning red in the face as she tries to glare Azazel to death. On a human it would be a viable tactic.

“Get them back. When the bet is over God gives them back.”

Azazel laughs disbelievingly, eyes moving back and forth between Jensen and Sariel, and then the laughter stops.

“My lord, there is no ‘getting them back.’ Why would there be? Once everything is done God simply moves the Job into-“

And then Azazel is gone. All that’s left is a smudge where he once was, and Sariel is looking anywhere but at Jensen. He’s pretty sure that she’s almost abashed at the brute force in it, since the two of them usually prefer the more logical and subtle way.

More importantly, he’s pretty sure that she’s about to die by his hand if she doesn’t open her mouth and tell him what’s going on.

“Sariel. You have ten seconds. What did he mean by Jared won’t get it back?”

“Jared won’t get his family back.”

“ _Why. Not._ ”

Sariel licks her lips, tilts her head and forces a smile.

“Jensen, lord, you see. This is technically not something I hid from you. I told you that the stories weren’t accurate.”

“Why won’t he get his family back? What about his job? Or his friends? Does he not get those back too?”

Her hands fold together smoothly, as if she’s not concerned at all.

“No. He gets nothing he lost back.”

Jensen feels his hands shaking. At first he thinks that maybe he’ll be able to hold this in, to control it and ask the things he needs to logically and carefully.

And then he lifts Sariel up and turns throwing her into a cage. The door slams shut and she’s standing in the middle of it staring at him in shock. Jensen leans against the bars, gripping them tight and hearing the metal strain and groan under his grip.

“Did you know that the whole time?”

She nods, staring at him like he’s a monster. Jensen doesn’t feel that’s very fair all things considered.

“Yes.”

“And you didn’t tell me.”

“No.”

“Why?”

Sariel touches the bars behind her, standing up a little straighter and firming her chin.

“Because it didn’t matter. Whether he gets it back or not he’s the Job and you’re the devil. Losing everything is how it’s meant to go.”

Jensen blinks, blinks again, and then remembers the last time he spoke to Azazel. How she came busting in like it was the end of the world and shut Azazel up after he said something about “the Job”. Something about Jared not getting it back. Why didn’t he follow up on that? How could he have forgotten?

“Explain. Slow. From the beginning to the end.”

Sariel takes one step forward, still avoiding the white hot bars and Jensen’s reach.

“The Job always signals the end of one devil’s reign and the beginning of another. Once a Job is picked there is no unpicking. God won’t stop until the deed is done. So telling you served no point but to complicate the process of you finishing the new Job.”

Jensen pulls on the bars a little and listens to them groan and twist. Sariel presses back against the back of the cage again.

“Explain better Sariel.”

“The Job. It’s a title not a name. The first few humans God put in charge were terrible. They were either malicious and overly ambitious or sheep. He needed someone who could lead, but who didn’t look on humanity as if they were less. So he came up with a plan to create a new leader, someone who would still empathize with humanity, but wouldn’t stop every ten seconds to ask him what he wanted. There are two kinds of Job. One that is created by taking everything from him until all he has left is a need for vengeance against God, and the other that naturally came with nothing. The Job would be given the choice of becoming the devil or simply losing everything. They always pick being the devil.”

Jensen tries to speak, but nothing comes. She takes his silence as a hint to go on.

“I’m only able to disobey so much Jensen. Sometimes rebellion is more about what you don’t do than what you do. I wasn’t allowed to tell you this until it was too late. Until it couldn’t be turned around. God wants Jared Padalecki to be the next devil and he will have it. It doesn’t matter what you do now. You set it in motion. If you don’t kill his family God will. If you back out God will make you suffer for it and then he’ll do it anyway. So just. Just finish.”

If Jensen believed she had a heart he would almost think that she was concerned for him. But he knows better than that.

“You said decide. Decide to be the devil. Why doesn’t God just make them be it? Why does he have to pitch it?”

Saying it out loud makes Jensen think of the barbershop, of what God said to him that day. He should have seen it. Should have known what was coming then and now. Because he sat down in the barbershop and the barber asked him about religion. A simple enough topic for idle conversation in Southern Texas, everyone was a Baptist or a Presbyterian anyway. And Jensen had answered honestly then.

_God is a bully that deserves to fall down._

And what had the barber said?

_What gives you the right to decide if he’s doing his job well or not? Where were you when he was shaping and molding the Earth? And where will you be when it ends?_

_Where were you when God laid the foundations of the earth?_

“Because he gave you free will. You could always say no. Then he can’t make you. It’s the rule.”

And Jensen knows what he has to do. Knows it. Hates it. Will do it anyway.

“Do you have to tell God I know?”

Sariel nods, slow and sure, and Jensen steps back from the cage.

“Then you’re staying here.”

“Jensen wait I-“

But Jensen is already gone.

\----

 

Jared looks around the temporarily empty apartment. His family has gone to the grocery store. Jared was invited, but didn’t feel like leaving. He knows it’s paranoid, this is not a little city, but there’s a possibility that someone will recognize him. He doesn’t want that.

Doesn’t want to be looked at like he’s a bad guy when he knows that he hasn’t done anything wrong.

A knock on the door makes him stand up, and Jared crosses the floor and pushes the dogs back while he looks through the peephole. It’s Pastor Bob. Jared’s mom must have called him.

He feels an enormous weight lift off his shoulders at the familiar face. He has known Pastor Bob since he was a little boy. In times of crisis or need Pastor Bob has always been there. And now here he is, when Jared needs him most.

The dogs are barking like an intruder is trying to break in, so Jared calls out to Pastor Bob to wait and then drags them both back to his bedroom and shuts them in. When he gets back to the door Pastor Bob is still waiting patiently. Jared opens the door and pulls him into a tight hug.

“Pastor Bob. I can’t believe you’re here. Thank you.”

Pastor Bob hugs just as tight, patting Jared on the back and standing firm and solid. An embodiment of Jared’s faith.

“Of course I am son. In times like this you need someone who will understand and listen. Who better than your friendly neighborhood pastor?”

Jared leads Pastor Bob back to the table and pulls a chair out for him. After he’s seated Jared fiddles with the teapot trying to fill it up and get it set. He hasn’t used this thing since he bought it. Gen usually works the teapot when they’re in a tea mood.

“So you’ve heard everything? You know what they’re accusing me of?”

Pastor Bob nods, lips curling into a comforting smile and eyes crinkling at their corners.

“I know Jared. And I think we should discuss-“

And then, against all reasonable explanations, Jensen is standing beside Jared.

There is no logical way that it could happen. Jared can see the only entryway out of the corner of his eye. For Jensen to appear there he would have had to teleport or step through the wall. Jared thinks this totally forgives the way he jumps a foot and drops the teapot.

Jensen looks over to the table, his face shifting from desperation to disgust when he spies Pastor Bob sitting calmly there like he belongs.

“Jared. Jared I need you to listen to me. To listen and believe can you do that?”

Before Jared can answer Pastor Bob speaks up, seemingly unfazed at all by this development.

“Son. Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Jared, please. Look at me. Tell me you believe me.”

What the fuck is going on? Jared’s eyes ping pong back and forth between Pastor Bob and his boyfriend before they settle on Jensen. He swallows and nods. He does believe Jensen. He’s a little confused why his boyfriend can teleport, and why he hates his pastor, but he knows Jensen. Knows that Jensen is honest and good.

“Good. Now listen to me because any second now he’s going to do something to stop me. Don’t sign anything. Don’t agree to anything. Don’t let him trick you into service. Do you understand?”

“No. Jensen what are you talking about?”

Pastor Bob stands, the smile on his face still kind and understanding. But oddly… _hollow_ now that Jared is really looking at it.

“Yes Jensen, what are you talking about?”

“That, your Pastor? Not your Pastor. And I am not your boyfriend. Not technically. Or only. Or. Just. I’m the devil. I tried to tell you before but I did it when I knew you wouldn’t believe me. I’m telling you now. I’m the devil and that, right there, is God. You are in the middle of a very old and very terrible game he plays where he takes everything from someone and then makes them agree to be the devil. He did it to me. He’s doing it to you and I helped him. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, and I know this is asking a lot of you, and I know I must sound crazy, but Jared I am asking you to believe me. He can’t make you the devil without your permission. He can’t make you. Don’t sign anything. Don’t agree.”

Jared opens his mouth, mind racing as it tries to comprehend and catch up with what Jensen is saying. And then Jensen is gone.

And so is Pastor Bob.

 

\---

Jensen doesn’t know how long he’s been locked in the cell.

It is small, windowless, and there are no features beyond the walls and the bars in front of him.

He has no idea how long he’s been there, or how long he will continue to be there. He does know that the floor is uncomfortable, and that this is the first time he’s ever been in Heaven.

It’s not terribly impressive.

On top of all of that Jensen is remembering the last fifteen to twenty seconds on Earth. The look on Jared’s face.

Did he pull it off? Did he stop the Job from becoming the next devil? And what exactly will happen to him? Will he stay the devil if Jared didn’t, or will God punish him and replace him with someone else?

The questions ping back and forth in Jensen’s brain as he sits perfectly still, fingertips the only movement as they rub against the silky smooth material of his trousers. He wants so badly to ask someone, but there is no one around. Just himself and his thoughts.

All his life Jensen was bottom of the pack. He was the smallest boy in the orphanage, no one wanted to adopt him, and then just for kicks at some point in his adolescence he figured out he was into boys. In _Texas_. That particular taste was more accepted now, but in Jensen’s day it was still a crime that could get you legally punished. If you weren’t hung by a mob first.

He had thought that it was because God didn’t care when he was human, but he had _known_ it as the devil.

But now it takes on a much more sinister meaning. A carefully crafted tragedy to make him exactly what God needed in that moment.

He wishes that he could get one last shot at punching God right in his smug fucking face. But knowing the supreme being there is a fine chance he’ll simply send an angel to do his dirty work. Or someone Jensen knows from his time in office.

And of course that’s when he hears a throat clear.

Sariel is standing outside of the bars, arms crossed under her breasts and one eyebrow lifted high. Jensen swallows, not unaware of the irony of this moment.

“Did he come down and let you out?”

She steps forward, through the bars, and gracefully plops down beside him on the ground. Her shoulder just barely brushes his bicep.

“No. I can go anywhere I want when I want. I just walked out.”

_That_. That is not the answer he suspected.

“Then what was the point of letting me think you couldn’t?”

Sariel picks at her nails idly, not looking at him.

“If you think it God thinks it. And that’s what I needed so I wouldn’t get thrown down _with_ you.”

Jensen is frozen for a moment, unsure of what that means, and then he sees her lips curl into a small and smug grin.

“You terrible, evil bitch. You knew what I was going to do. You let me.”

She shrugs. Picks at her nail once more and then lays her head on her knees to look at him.

“Did you do it? Did you talk the Job out of it?”

Jensen isn’t sure. Doesn’t know what to say.

“I don’t know. I hope so. Don’t you know?”

“Oh I have no idea. I was told my boss went off the deep end and that I needed to come up here to be with him for his trial. And then I was asked why I didn’t stop him from going up there and showing his ass, to which I logically responded that he detained me and it took some time to get free. So. I haven’t really peeked. Does it matter at this point?”

“Yes. It matters.”

“Because you’re all gooey and heart eyed over the man?”

Jensen’s pride curls up in his throat and chokes him. He’s the devil. He doesn’t get gooey and heart eyed.

“No. Because I at least want to know that I pulled it off. Doesn’t that count? Wanting to finish?”

“Sure it does. But that’s not why.” Sariel smiles at him, sideways and wide. “Jensen, do you know that you are the _worst_ devil that I have ever had the displeasure to serve under?”

And that stings, because it’s not true at all.

“Excuse me? I keep the place organized. Our numbers are up. I’m efficient and focused and I keep the group of you on track. How could I _possibly_ be the worst devil you ever served under?”

She pokes his knee.

“Tell me this. What is your job?”

“To keep hell running efficiently and collect the souls bound for it.”

She shakes her head and pokes his knee again.

“Close but no cigar boss. You’re supposed to tempt them. Bring them in. Convert them to our side. If all you ever do is collect the bad ones you’re just maintaining the status quo. You’re a terrible devil because you’re too good of a man. The others, they all had something in them that was a little bit off. A little bit mean. But not you boss.”

“I was a terrible human being. Selfish and angry. I never did anything good.”

“You were an apathetic human being. You were a good man as a devil. And that’s why you couldn’t go after Jared Padalecki. Even if it meant you being stuck in hell forever you recognized in him all the things you were learning about yourself. So no. You were shit at it. And now you won’t be the devil anymore and I’ll have to deal with some other asshole.”

“Do you think he hates me?” Jensen hates how small his voice is. How weak.

“Does it matter? I thought you just wanted to finish. He can hate you and still not take the position.”

“No. It doesn’t matter.”

Sariel shakes her head.

“You’re also a terrible liar. Which is a _huge_ flaw for a devil.”

“I’m a great liar. I’m the prince of lies.”

“ _Lucifer_ was the prince of lies. You’re like, the governor of lies. The Aide de Camp of lies. Something else.”

Jensen tries to keep his mouth from pursing. From giving her the satisfaction.

“So what happens now? What punishment is worse than being in here? Or being in charge of Hell?”

She stands then, brushes imaginary dirt off of her knees and fixes the hem of her dress. Then she holds out a hand and Jensen takes it without a second thought. Allows himself to be pulled up.

“You go on trial next. If God finds you guilty he does to you whatever is worse than what he already did. If he doesn’t then you walk I guess.”

“Do I get an attorney? We know enough of them down there.”

She smiles then, and it’s the one he’s used to. Too many teeth and slightly evil.

“Of course you do. I’m your attorney.”

_He’s fucked_.

 

\----

 

The courtroom is huge, and Jensen looks around it in silent wonder. The ceilings go up so high that they blend into what looks like clouds. The windows are so bright that they hurt to look at, and the benches and desks are a dark and polished wood that Jensen can see his own reflection in. The audience section is empty, but the jury box is filled with angels. Jensen doesn’t think that’s fair.

God sits in the center next to the witness stand, and a man Jensen doesn’t know stands at the prosecution table looking serious and dour.

He tries to look powerful, stable, confident, but he knows that there’s only a slim chance he’s pulling it off. Sariel has a hand on his elbow, and Jensen wonders what this is like for her. If she cares to look at what she’s been thrown out of.

Jensen takes his seat at the defense table and watches as God flips through a giant book before looking up.

“Jensen Ackles. You are charged with the crime of diverting the natural order and disobeying the word of God. How do you plead?”

He goes to open his mouth, but Sariel speaks first.

“We plead guilty your highness. Also, we plead not interested.”

The angels in the jury box mutter unhappily, and the prosecutor glares angrily at her. God seems unfazed.

“Prosecution. Call your first witness.”

And the angel, he has to be an angel from how stiff he looks, turns to the empty courtroom and speaks in a deep resounding voice.

“I call Jensen Ackles to the stand.”

He should have seen it coming. Jensen gets up and crosses the marble floor all by himself. The space is huge. The seat isn’t very comfortable. The jury looks ready to hang him.

Except whatever it is that waits for him at the end of this will be worse than a noose and he knows it.

“Jensen Ackles.” The prosecutor strolls forwards and places his hand on the wood railing in front of Jensen. “Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth so help you Him?”

It takes every muscle in his body to not burst into laughter at the cheesiness of it. Sariel does not have the same restraint.

“I swear.”

“Did you, knowingly, ruin God’s chances with the new Job by telling him not to sign the contract?”

Jensen feels relief like he can’t believe. A weight he didn’t know was resting on his shoulders lifts up and he can breathe easy again. Whatever is coming his way Jared said no. Jared won’t be forced into devilhood like he was. Jared is safe.

“Yes. I did that.” He looks to Sariel and sees her smiling and nodding. “I did that.”

“The prosecution rests your holiness.”

Jensen hopes Sariel has something up her sleeve.

She stands, strolls over to the box, and then hops up to sit on the rail in front of him and let her feet swing and dangle.

“Jensen, do you understand that when you are in that seat you cannot lie and you cannot refuse to answer a question?”

No. He didn’t.

“I do now. _Thanks_.”

“You’re welcome lord.” She smiles cheekily and the angels all glare. “Now, I have two questions. Who’s your right hand and best helper?”

“You are.”

“Let the records show that Jensen Ackles has called Sariel the-“

“ _Get on with it_.” God does not look amused.

“Of course. Jensen, last question. Do you love Jared Padalecki?”

There’s silence in the courtroom. A tension spreads through the room. Jensen isn’t sure why, but he knows that he would love to slap her right back into a cage and try to keep her there.

But he has to answer.

“Yes. I do.”

The courtroom begins to mutter unhappily. The angels are looking at each other, and God looks unsettled. Jensen isn’t sure why.

“You can return to your seat Jensen. I have another witness to call.”

Jensen gets up, bumps her not too softly, and then collapses back into his chair at the table. She continues to sit on the railing.

“For my last witness I call Jared Padalecki to the stand.”

The courtroom erupts, and Jensen stands and slams his hands down on the table.

“Sariel! He doesn’t need to be involved.”

“He does.”

And sure enough Jared arrives in the seat looking confused and perplexed. He looks around, eyes flitting over angel’s faces, before they settle on Jensen. The conflict is obvious in his face.

“Jared Padalecki, do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth so help you the big man what tried to ruin your life?”

The gavel slams and the courtroom shakes, but Sariel looks unfazed.

“I swear.” Jared looks solemn. Sure. And Jensen begins to wonder about a lot of things.

“Jared Padalecki. Do you love Jensen Ackles?”

Jensen’s heart stops beating. Time stands still. He hears a crack from the table under his fingers where his clutching fingers break the surface into pieces. The entire courtroom has gone dead silent and still and they are all staring at Jared.

But Jared is only looking at Jensen.

“I do. Even if he’s the devil.”

The courtroom becomes a cacophonous mess, angels all shouting and arguing at once, God slamming his gavel, and Jared disappears into thin air. Sariel hops off the rail and looks up to God with a bright smile on her face.

“You see? They’re in love. I rest my case.”

The jury disappears, the prosecutor is gone, and all that is left in the courtroom is Jensen, Sariel, and God.

“Jensen. I cannot keep you as devil any longer. You are sentenced to fifty years on earth as a human being. At the end of those fifty years I will review your behavior and decide if you will be placed in Heaven, or continue to live on earth.” God slams the gavel, and then he’s gone too.

And all that’s left is Jensen and Sariel.

“Did he just…make me human again?”

She takes his elbow and begins to walk slowly but surely towards the giant doors.

“Yes Jensen. He did that.”

“For fifty years?”

“At the very least. Which is fairly standard for a human life.”

Step, step, slow and sure, the big doors getting closer and bigger.

“Why? You said I was guilty. They have me. I admitted to doing it.”

Sariel stops at the giant doors and turns her head to look at him.

“Do you remember that saying in the Bible? As it is in Heaven so shall it be on Earth?”

Jensen nods slowly.

“Well God once let you humans write that he was love. And because of that nothing can be considered a crime if it is done out of true, enduring, reciprocal love. He kinda fucked himself.”

He can’t help it. Jensen sweeps her up in a hug and spins her around. Sariel instantly slaps at his shoulders until he puts her down.

“Ew. Ew. Stop. I don’t do that. You may be all gooey and mushy on the inside, but _I’m_ still a member of the Hell legion. _Now_. We’re gonna take you through that door and you’re gonna be on earth and human. Don’t end up back in my neck of the woods.”

“Will I ever see you again?”

Sariel squints, looking past him at something he can’t see.

“Probably. I’ve grown fond of bothering you.” She pushes the doors open to show bright white light. “Good luck asshole.”

And then she pushes Jensen into the brightness.

 

\-----

 

Sariel stands in the doorway a long time, watching Jared Padalecki alternately shake and hug her former boss. She doesn’t react when she feels the presence beside her.

“I knew it would end like this.”

She controls her smile when Jared kisses Jensen.

“Oh don’t try to claim ineffableness now. You bet against them. Which means I get both my vacation.”

God laughs behind her, and Sariel finally turns to look at him. He’s looking at Jared and Jensen, smile bright and unfathomably warm on his face.

“Yes. And I’ll have your new boss ready by the time you get back.”

She sighs and closes the door on the happy scene. There’s always more work to be done.

[Part 3](http://dimeliora.livejournal.com/58867.html)   
[Epilogue](http://dimeliora.livejournal.com/59305.html)   



	5. The Luck of Job Epilogue

  
I don't know where,  
I don't know where,  
Where my path will lead, but I'll follow my feet and  
hopefully they'll keep me on the ground and I'll be walking to the sound  
Follow, follow, follow my feet.  
Follow, follow, follow your feet.  


 

 

 

And thus ends the new gospel, the history of the 179th devil Jensen Ackles, who was conscripted into service at the age of thirty-two, and escaped it over a hundred years later by falling in love and going after that love.

Why God, in his infinite wisdom, could not explain to Jensen his purposes, or why he was chosen in the first place, will sadly remain a mystery to all. But if there is a lesson here, it is surely that above all else comes love and-

Dumah is now informing me that if I end the gospel in such a sappy way I will be the laughingstock of all of Heaven. I would smartly retort that while this may be true, the point of this gospel is not to gain notoriety or respect; it is to accurately reflect what happened at the end of Jensen’s reign in Hell.

I am now being told that I am a fool. Which may be true, and I may also be a hopeless romantic of the lowest stripe, but I am welcomed into social gatherings already whereas Dumah is often left resting on his heels and cooling his wings.

Here would be a good place for an epilogue I suppose, if I cannot discuss the larger ramifications of the tale.

The fallen angel Sariel was given a new devil to mentor and care for. She likes him infinitely less than she did Jensen, but that was to be expected. He was, after all, her favorite since the beginning of the Pit. She does have more control over the new devil, as I am told he is much weaker and less assertive than Jensen was. Which means that she is given more passes to the surface, and that she can use them to visit her old friend and his new life. Sariel is very pleased with this outcome. Jensen pretends that he is not.

Gen and Danni are still together, still happy, and still a holy terror to anyone who questions them. They had a ceremony in Massachusetts that resulted in Jensen calling upon his years of experience with manipulation to avoid several arrests. The pictures are somewhat legendary, and have been used to create several memes. Gen thinks this is delightful. Danni thinks that it’s just nice that her wife is so happy about it.

As for Jared and Jensen?

They are very happy. Jensen fumbled a bit while trying to figure out what he wanted to do with his life. At first he made an incredible amount of money working for the actual _Skymall_ , but it was quickly evident that this was not the sort of thing he should continue doing if he wished to change and grow along with Jared. As a result he tried a number of different positions before finding that it was easy to turn his skills towards bettering the world. Jensen began to work for charities, twisting and coercing rich men and women into donating to good causes. It was surprisingly easy even though it was, in essence, the opposite of what he had done for so long. The goal of accumulating wealth was replaced with accumulating glory and immortality through their donations.

Jared on the other hand continued on with things as they had been before. Very little changed. Once a month Jared still went to church. A new one, as his old church was going through a fair number of struggles since their pastor was found with a teenager. And then arrested. Jensen pointed out the silliness of Jared’s habit and that he had no reason to be particularly grateful to God one way or another. Jared thinks this is a foolish assertion, as God brought Jensen to him. Much arguing has occurred from that response. Even with all of that said, Jared had changed some. He was a little less idealistic, a little less naïve, and those weren’t bad things when paired with hope. Certainly nothing bordering on jaded or bitter.

They are settled together, comfortable and happy, and both of them have grown. For in the end-

Dumah is telling me that I have run out of time and space. Allow me to simply say this then. The world is a very big place full of very different people. They come and go, pass by you with sometimes a smile and a kind word, sometimes a scowl and silence, but a whole life of their own carried on their shoulders.

It’s easy to break them down further. Easy to take apart what it took them so long to build. And you could do that and feel accomplished and whole. You could be apathetic to their plights and simply allow them to continue to struggle under the weight of all that consciousness.

Or, like Jared, you could instill in them a little bit of hope and faith. Something that will turn their heads, change their points of view, and cause them to spread the same hope and faith into the rest of the world.

Also, for the record of this gospel, Dumah wouldn’t know a hanging participle if it bit him in the buttocks.

[Part 4](http://dimeliora.livejournal.com/58937.html)   
[Masterpost](http://dimeliora.livejournal.com/59495.html)   



End file.
